


The Bearheart Chronicles

by MelanaAdara



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 72,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanaAdara/pseuds/MelanaAdara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventures of brothers Gillaen and Arrentai Bearheart and their family and friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

My name is Nerissina Moonshade. I was born the only child of a wealthy merchant family in Gilneas city and had a privileged and happy childhood. I wanted for nothing and I should have been content. I wasn’t; I wanted more from life.  
My parents always told me I was too strong willed for my own good and maybe they were right. The day they told me they were arranging a marriage for me with the son of a close neighbour was the day I rebelled against their authority. I couldn’t stand the man and I wasn’t ready to be married anyway. When they refused to listen to me I packed my bags, signed on in the army and never went home again. Maybe I could have done; maybe they would have accepted my choice and supported me; but I found I enjoyed the freedom life in the army gave me and I was not willing to relinquish it.  
At a ceremony in Dawn’s Light Cathedral I became a paladin, a warrior of the Light. My parents did not attend. I may have lost my family by my actions but I made new friends and found a new home with the army. One of the closest friends I made in my regiment was Gillaen Bearheart, a big but gentle man who lived up to his name. He was like a brother to me. We spent every waking hour working as a team.  
When after a few months service we had some leave and he learned I had nowhere to go he invited me and some others to join him at his family home in a village outside the capital city. Rather than be alone I accepted.  
His parents, both druids who lived close to nature, made us welcome. His brother was not there when we arrived but I met him later. I had gone to check on my horse when a large strangely marked cat bounded out of the forest and stopped a few yards from me. It stood watching me for a moment as if it were sizing me up. Alertly I watched it, wondering if it was going to attack. I was unarmed; I’d left both armour and weapons in my room; but I’d still give it a run for its money. Then without warning its outlines blurred, rising upward, changing into a man. I’d forgotten about this druid ability and it startled me.   
The man apologized with a smile. I looked into his grey eyes and was lost. He could only be Gillaen’s younger brother, they were so alike. He was slenderer and his hair which he wore long and braided was more gold than Gillaen’s pale brown; but that was the only difference.  
“I’m Arrentai,” he introduced himself and asked my name.  
As we walked back to the house he told me of the work he’d been doing in the forest, tending and healing the plants and creatures. We joined the others and he poured us glasses of wine before sitting next to me.  
“Maybe you’d like to join me tomorrow,” he said softly.  
I saw Gillaen watching with an amused grin, but I chose to ignore it. I wanted to get to know Arrentai better and no amount of teasing from Gillaen was going to put me off.   
I went with Arrentai the next day and all the days after that. I had come here to avoid loneliness and instead had found my soul-mate. For a short while I was able to forget about the fighting and danger that was my usual life and enjoy the peaceful forest and pleasant company. Before a week was out we had become lovers and I would gladly have stayed with him had I not owed my loyalty to the army. When we left at the end of our month’s leave it was with sadness I had to refuse Arrentai’s proposal until more peaceful days.  
We returned to duty, patrolling in Silverpine, keeping the Scourge in check. And all the while I held a secret close to my heart for I found I was carrying Arrentai's child. I told no one because I wanted him to be first to know; maybe if I had I’d have been given safer duties and not met the fate that I did.  
The worgen that plagued Silverpine and Gilneas were becoming bolder and attacking patrols as well as civilians. One night as we rested a pack of worgen attacked our camp. Before we could drive them off several of us were bitten by the beasts, myself included. We bound our wounds and carried on. Foolishly perhaps I ignored the burning that I felt growing in my blood until Gillaen noticed that I was unwell and expressed his concern. But it was already too late. A few nights later they attacked again. Calling upon the aid of the Light I drew my sword to help defend us and remembered no more.   
I awoke in a dank gloomy cell smelling of mould and decay. In the distance I could hear low sounds and muted voices. My senses seemed strangely heightened. In the dim light I could see a shadowy figure crouched in the opposite corner. I moved, attracting its attention, and it arose and approached me. I shrank back in fear as I saw what it was; a worgen. However it made no effort to attack me.  
”Who are you?” it asked hoarsely.  
“I’m Nerissina.” My own voice sounded just as hoarse. “Where are we?”  
“I’m Tomas; and we’re in Shadowfang keep.”  
I remembered his name as that of a patrol member who’d disappeared a few weeks ago.   
“But you’re a worgen.”  
“So are you now. Look at yourself.”  
I looked down at my hands; where not concealed by my armour they were covered in smooth silver grey hair and ended in claws. He handed me a bundle of material.  
“Take off your armour. Put this on,” he said. I hesitated; without my armour I would feel too vulnerable. “Do it, woman. They won’t let you wear your armour here.”  
“Woman!” How good that word sounded at that moment. Here I was transformed into a creature that was less than human, yet he still saw me as I should be. He understood how important it was to retain that illusion of humanity no matter how we appeared.   
Obediently I removed my armour and pulled on the coarse loose robe over my undergarments. Then I replaced my tabard. It wasn’t armour but it was part of my identity and I wasn’t about to give that up. Tomas shrugged as he bundled the armour into a sack and stuffed it out of sight under the bed.  
“No one will bother with it if they don’t see it,” he explained. “And one day you may need it again.”  
“What happened to me? I remember the worgen attacking the camp then nothing.”   
He explained. When we’d been bitten by the worgen the poison in their saliva had triggered a change in our bodies, until we had become like them. Then they’d brought us to Shadowfang keep; to Archmage Arugal who kept worgen like us prisoner and experimented on us. We had the freedom of the keep because he believed we could not escape. Over the following weeks I was dosed with Arugal’s foul potions and suffered his torture until I felt reality begin to slip away. Only the power of the Light within me held me together. I began to pray for death until the night I felt my child move within me. Against all the odds it was still alive, though how it had been affected by my transformation I had no way of knowing. Now I knew I had to escape for its sake. I had no idea how long I’d been at Shadowfang but now time would be measured by my growing child and the need to protect it.  
I confided in Tomas, the only one I could trust, and we began to plan. At night when we were alone he taught me how to shapeshift into my former self. By day we explored every last corner of the keep but could find no way out. I began to fear that time would run out and my child would be born there and in its turn suffer Arugal’s torments. Then at the last moment our luck changed. Arugal was hated by pretty much everyone around; and just when I feared my time would run out the keep was attacked. Under cover of the all out assault we retrieved our armour and headed for the main gates. One of the attackers saw us and turned his sword on Tomas. Unarmed as he was he’d have been cut down had I not tackled the man from behind. Between us we knocked him to the ground and I wrested the sword from his hands. It was a good weapon so I held on to it. I would not kill the man; after all he and his companions were providing the distraction we needed. After that we managed to slip out of the keep un-noticed and flee into the forest. When I heard later that Arugal had been killed I could not feel sorrow; it was a just punishment for his crimes. A small group of attackers pursued us and, slowed by the pain in my belly, I would have been taken had Tomas not led them away.   
I crouched in a sheltered spot at the base of a tree and there alone in the gathering darkness I gave birth. My child was tiny, perfectly formed and unquestionably human. As the chill air hit her she gave a weak cry. Ripping off the remains of my tabard I wrapped it round her and held her close to my breast, careful not to harm her with my claws. I couldn’t believe the strength of the love I felt for her. For some moments I just gazed at her, taking in every detail; her pale blue eyes, smooth fair skin, the hair that was somewhere in colour between mine and Arrentai's. How I wished he was with me; he was her father and he didn’t even know she existed. Maybe, if Gillaen had told him what had happened, he now believed that I was dead.  
I knew that I needed to move away before any predators smelled the blood and came looking for an easy meal. Wearily I stood up and looked straight into the muzzle of a gun. I’d been so intent on my child I hadn’t heard the hunters approach. I can’t imagine what they thought when they saw me. In my filthy blood stained robe I looked no different from any of the feral worgen that roamed these forests.  
“Put the child down,” the one with the gun said. “Filthy animal! Where did you steal it from?”   
I shook my head. “She’s mine,” I protested but he didn’t seem to hear. Too exhausted to think, to shapeshift, my one instinct was to protect her from these strangers who threatened us. I made no effort to reach for the sword that stood nearby, fearing that they would see it as an act of aggression and attack me. I backed away against the tree and held her close as she began to cry with hunger. With my claws I tore at the front of my robe and crouched down to let her suckle. She fell silent as she fed hungrily and for a moment I let my guard down. A second hunter, thinking no doubt that I was hurting her, stepped quickly forward and snatched her from my arms. Deprived of her comfort she began to wail again. With a howl of anguish I leapt at him to take her back. Too late I sensed the one who had circled behind and felled me with a blow to the head.  
I awoke with a headache in yet another cell, lighter and less foul than the last, yet still a prison. There was no sign of my child. The hunters had handed me and my armour over to the army and left without mentioning her. No one I asked could tell me anything or indeed would believe that I had a child. For days I was examined and questioned relentlessly. Then I was told that as I obviously had control over myself I would rejoin my former regiment and was ordered to keep quiet about what had happened to me. Those in authority showed little surprise over the fact I had become worgen. It seemed this happened quite often; but it was being kept secret from the general populace.  
Tomas too had returned as had quite a few other former soldiers who’d escaped from Shadowfang. A lot of the other soldiers didn’t feel comfortable around us so we tended to keep to ourselves. Tomas asked me once what had happened after we were separated but he accepted my decision not to talk about it and never asked again.  
Gillaen accepted us readily; but then coming from a family of druids he was used to people becoming animals; and I supposed he saw our change as similar in some way. I never told him that I could shapeshift; I never bothered doing it. As I had to fight in worgen form it was easiest to just stay that way. Anyway he was happy enough to serve with us; but he and I never regained our previous closeness. I knew that he would tell Arrentai that I had returned so, although it broke my heart, I told him that I no longer loved his brother and did not want to see him again. I had no choice; there could be no future for us now. What man would want a worgen for a wife? I resigned myself to the truth that I would never see my child again and buried her memory in the deepest part of my heart. Worgen can’t easily weep; there’s too much of the beast in us, but, by the Light, we can still feel the pain and grief of loss.   
We continued our patrols against the Scourge, frequently engaging them in battle and maybe I was a little reckless sometimes; but I was stronger now and my worgen ferocity a bonus. The Light was still strong in me and I could still call it to my aid although not in the same way. It seemed that worgen could not follow the path of the paladin. My recklessness, however, was my ultimate undoing. We were in battle against a large Scourge force and things were going badly. I saw Tomas fall wounded and went to his aid. The Scourge warrior turned to defend itself from my attack allowing my friend to escape. I wasn’t so lucky; beaten to its knees the Scourge creature thrust its sword upwards under my breastplate and into my heart. Dying, I fell before the undead monster. I felt coldness as my life ebbed away; then nothing.  
I awoke in a vast empty barrack room. I didn’t understand how this could be; I should be dead. I had felt that icy Scourge sword pierce my heart, draining my life and soul away. Oddly enough I felt no fear only a vague curiosity. I could remember nothing else, not even my name. Around me I could hear others stirring. I sat up and looked around. The whole room was filled with others like me, men and women bearing the scars of wounds that should have killed them. Close by me was a bearded bearlike man who seemed familiar; had we known each other? I couldn’t be sure, but I could sense a bond between us.  
There was no time to talk. A huge abomination of a man entered the room and began to address us. We learned what we now were; death knights. We had indeed died in battle but our soul-less bodies had been raised and brought here to the Ebon Hold to serve the Lich King. The awful hunger we now felt was not for food but a need to kill, to sate ourselves on the blood and pain of others. So long as we served and obeyed the Lich King that hunger could be controlled. If not it would control us and send us into madness. And so we served. Given new dark armour and rune-forged weapons that would draw the life from our victims we became a new army for the Lich King. I will not detail what we did, the numbers of people we killed or tortured. With no souls and consumed by that terrible endless hunger our deeds were too awful to describe.   
But in the end the Lich King went too far and lost us. In his never-ending war against the forces of Light he sent us against first the Scarlet Crusade, then the Argent Dawn. We defeated the Scarlet Crusade at their enclave at Tyr’s Hand, virtually wiping them out and enabling them to become undead. During that time my loyalty to the Lich King was tested yet again. We had captured a building where several captives, members of the Argent Dawn, had been held prisoners by the Scarlet Crusaders. I was ordered to go there and kill one to prove my loyalty. I thought nothing of it; I’d killed so many in cold blood; what was one more? But this was different; my hunger had been sated by recent battles and I was able to think clearly as I entered the building. There were several prisoners there of different races, all of them weak, injured, not capable of putting up a fight. The one I had been ordered to kill, a worgen male, was resigned to his fate yet determined to look me in the eye as I killed him. He looked up at me as I stood over him, sword in hand, and claimed to know me. He begged me to remember him; the time we had spent together in Shadowfang Keep; the friendship we had shared; the person I had once been. He was so eloquent, but in vain, I could remember nothing. However it was the beginning of the turning point for me; for the first time I began to doubt what I was doing. Nevertheless I had to kill him; I had no choice; it was him or me and I wasn’t ready to surrender my life such as it was. With one stroke of my sword I ended his life and walked out of that building full of lost souls.  
Then just days later we were sent en masse against Light’s Hope Chapel and the Argent Dawn. It was to be the Lich King’s undoing and our salvation.  
There were thousands of death knights against just a few hundred of the Argent Dawn. The battle was fierce and we should have prevailed by sheer weight of numbers but they stood on holy ground with the Light on their side and we could not beat them. The ground was covered with dead, both theirs and ours.   
At last we were ordered to stand down. Then Highlord Tirion Fordring appeared and spoke to our commander Highlord Darion Mograine. By some trick of the land every one of us heard what was said, that we had been sent on a suicide mission. We saw a vision of a spirit that was Mograine’s father telling him he was not yet ready to wield his sword, the Ashbringer. It obviously had a profound effect on him for when the Lich King appeared and admitted that we were merely bait to bring Fordring out of hiding Mograine turned on him. He was not strong enough to prevail but he threw his corrupted sword to Fordring who cleansed it with his powers of Light and drove the Lich King back. Realising that he could not win this battle the Lich King fled. The power of the Light that filled the land that day was enough to restore our souls and free us from our servitude. As the shame and guilt of the terrible things I’d done filled my heart I sank to my knees weeping. Others around me did the same. My memory returned; I knew once again who I was; Nerissina Moonshade, once a paladin of the Light in the army of Gilneas. I heard Fordring and Mograine pledge to continue the fight against the Lich King, pursuing him even to his stronghold in Northrend. I vowed that when I was strong enough I would join them. I could never fully atone for my crimes, but I would devote my life to doing what I could.  
I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up into a face I knew well. Gillaen, battle weary, scarred, bearing fresh wounds, stood there beside me. His face too bore traces of the tears he had shed as his awareness returned. In silence I arose and with my friend at my side I walked into the tiny ramshackle chapel. I knelt there in prayer and repeated the vow that I had made outside; that I would help make the Lich King pay for his crimes or die in the attempt. Gillaen knelt beside me, and I believe made a similar vow.  
Under the command of Highlord Mograine we returned to the Ebon Hold, cleansed it of the Scourge’s abominations and made it our headquarters where any redeemed death knight could receive the help and training they needed. Mograine renamed us Knights of the Ebon Blade. Instead of serving the Scourge we would once more champion the Light. I could no longer draw on the power of the Light, channelling it through my body as I’d once been able to; I had to learn a new way of fighting; but I was once again aware of it there supporting me. We kept our rune-forged blades and the abilities bestowed on us by the Scourge, and we had to learn to balance those needs against our consciences if we were to be accepted once again. As each of us was ready we were sent to the leader of our former faction. Having once been human I was sent to Varian Wrynn, king of Stormwind and leader of the Alliance.


	2. Chapter 2

Gillaen   
I was always a loner. My family were druids. They always had been as far back as anyone could trace. But I had to be the odd one out. Oh, I learned all the spells, knew them by heart, but I couldn’t use them. I couldn’t channel the nature magic through my body. Even my little brother Arrentai had more skill than I did.  
“It’ll come in time,” my mother said often, but it didn’t. It was humiliating; I felt useless, a disappointment to my parents. In the end I gave up trying. If I couldn’t be a druid I’d be something else. I was good at fighting; as a child I was always getting into scraps. I’d join the army.  
So I said goodbye to my family and, with their blessing, headed to Gilneas city to join up.  
At last I’d found my place, a life I enjoyed and plenty of new friends. There was one in particular I became close to. Nerissina Moonshade was a feisty blue eyed redhead; beautiful and delightful. She looked too slight to be a soldier but she could hold her own against the best of us. We became close friends and I felt I was falling in love with her. I didn’t realise that she saw me more as the brother she never had.  
Towards the end of our basic training a paladin visited our barracks seeking new recruits. All of us aspired to join the ranks of those elite warriors and we were at our best for him.  
Just a handful of us were invited to train for that honour; Nerissina and I were among them. If we’d thought basic training was tough well now we really had our eyes opened. We underwent months of relentless hard work designed to make us skilled, powerful, self-sufficient. On top of that we had to learn to channel the Light, learning spells to aid us in healing and fighting. Given my experience with druid training I expected this to be my downfall, my expulsion from the paladins’ ranks. I was surprised, astounded even, when I found that I was able to work with the Light. I also found that I had an aptitude for leadership and I was given command of our platoon.  
Finally came the ceremony at Dawn’s Light Cathedral where we were formally accepted into the elite ranks of the Paladins of the Argent Dawn. It was an occasion I would never forget. I stood in a circle of paladins and made my vows, and was given bright new armour and a warhammer, the traditional weapon of the paladins. Then I stood alone in the centre of the cathedral and opened my heart to the Light, feeling it fill me, empower me, remove all my doubts, make me whole. Words could never adequately describe how I felt; it was as if I had been born anew.  
All of my companions in their turn underwent the same ceremony. To our delight, and on my part relief, all of us were accepted by the Light.  
My family came to the ceremony, as did those of most of my companions. They were proud of what I had achieved and wanted to show their support. Only Nerissina had no one. She told me afterwards why. She had joined the army to escape an arranged marriage and her family could not forgive her for that.  
Not long after that we were given a month’s leave. Those of us who lived close enough would go home to our families. There were a few who’d be staying at the barracks. They lived too far away and travelling would take too long to be worthwhile; and on our wages they couldn’t afford to pay for mage portals. Impulsively I invited them to join me. I knew my parents wouldn’t mind; Mother had said I was welcome to take friends home anytime. Nerissina was among their number; she felt she wouldn’t be welcome in her family. I knew she would be in mine.  
So it was a merry bunch of us that arrived at our farm on that late summer afternoon. My parents made everyone welcome and Mother soon sorted out sleeping arrangements. Ours was only a small house so Nerissina and the other women, Jenna and Kaeti were given my room and I was banished to the hayloft along with the men. We didn’t mind, we were used to roughing it out on patrol.  
Arrentai wasn’t around when we arrived; he was out working in the forest, Mother told me. For a while we sat around, drinking, eating, talking, telling my parents about life in the army. Then Nerissina stood up and said she was going for a walk; she wanted to check on her horse. I offered to go with her but she declined the suggestion. I think maybe she was feeling a little overwhelmed and needed some time alone. I watched her leave before turning back to the others, not missing my mother’s knowing look. I believe she had seen how I felt, although thankfully no one else had.  
When Nerissina returned some time later she wasn’t alone; Arrentai was with her. I stared at my brother, seeing how he had changed. Although still skinnier than me, he’d got some muscle on him and he was tanned from his outdoor life. His golden hair was longer than ever and he wore it braided to keep it tidy. He’d even grown a beard like mine. The boy I remembered was a man now.  
I watched him pour wine for himself and Nerissina, and saw how they looked at each other. I knew then that I had lost my chance with Nerissina. To hide my pain I teased them. They’d never learn from me how my heart was breaking.  
Our leave passed all too quickly. There was plenty to do, riding, fishing, helping on the farm or just relaxing. And throughout that month I saw little of Nerissina and Arrentai. They usually went off on their own. I don’t know what they did; I didn’t ask; didn’t want to know. I suspected they’d become lovers for Kaeti told me that Nerissina wasn’t sleeping with her and Jenna at night.  
When it came to leaving their farewells were no different to anyone else’s. I guess they’d had a few more intimate moments earlier. Very little was said between Nerissina and myself on the journey. She didn’t want to talk and I certainly wasn’t going to ask.  
For a while I tried to have a relationship with Kaeti. She was a nice girl and in any other circumstances we could have made it work; but my heart wasn’t in it and I think she quickly realised that. It was no surprise to either of us when we agreed to end the affair after just a few weeks. It was not long after that that she left the army, saying she felt the life was not for her after all. I never saw her again.  
Army life went on much the same as usual. Now I’d been promoted to platoon leader I led our patrols but otherwise nothing much had changed. The Scourge went on making a nuisance of themselves. They’d messed up Lordaeron so much that it was now being called the Plaguelands. Nearly everyone who was still alive had left, leaving the land for the undead. All we had left were a few isolated outposts. On top of that the worgen were making a lot of trouble, attacking patrols and villages, and carrying off people. I didn’t know what they did with them; neither they nor their bodies were being found.  
Eventually I found out in the most awful way. One night our camp was attacked by a large pack of worgen. By the time we drove them off several of our group had been bitten. Their wounds seemed minor so they were bandaged and we carried on. Then I noticed that some of them, Nerissina included, seemed ill and were acting a little oddly. I decided to end the patrol and head back to base, but my decision was made too late.  
That night we were attacked again; they always came at night for some reason. Half asleep we tried to defend ourselves. I chanced to be fighting near Nerissina and I saw what happened. Suddenly she dropped her sword with a cry of pain that turned abruptly to a howl. Her body twisted, contorted, changed. The beautiful woman I knew had become a fearful savage creature, a worgen. With a wild wolf-like howl she turned and dashed away into the darkness. She wasn’t the only one. As I counted the cost of that awful night I realised that all those who’d previously been bitten were now missing. Had they too changed like Nerissina? Was this how the worgen added to their numbers rather than by breeding?  
There were too few of us left to follow them. With a heavy heart I ordered the return to Gilneas where I made a report to our officers. They didn’t seem as surprised by it as I would have expected. It turned out that they’d known for some time that this was happening but they were trying to keep it contained; rather unsuccessfully I thought. We were ordered not to talk to anyone about what had happened. What was I supposed to tell my brother I demanded, he needs to know that Nerissina is missing. Tell him that she’s dead, they told me. As far as he’s concerned she might just as well be. So I wrote to tell Arrentai that the woman he loved was lost in an attack by the worgen. I couldn’t tell him that she’d become one of them; I just let him believe she was dead. I only wished I could believe the same; instead I had to suffer the heartbreak of knowing the truth.  
I was given command of a new patrol and life went on in our endless struggle against the Scourge. Some months later I noticed worgen appearing in the ranks of the army. I’d thought they were just mindless beasts so this surprised me. However I just accepted it as I accepted most of our commanders’ decisions. I finally found out more when my senior officer called me and some other patrol leaders to a meeting.  
Shadowfang Keep, where a lot of the feral worgen hid out, had been raided and its master, the Archmage Arugal, had been killed. Many of his worgen prisoners had escaped and subsequently been captured by hunting parties. For some time scientists working for the king had been working on a cure which they had tested out on the prisoners. The potions had restored their minds and memories and enabled them to control their bestial natures although they could not restore their human bodies.  
Among those who’d returned were several belonging to our patrols. We were asked would we accept them back again; apparently not all commanders were willing to work with the worgen. So long as they were controlled I didn’t have a problem; after all I was used to my family turning into animals although unlike the worgen they at least could return to their human bodies. I was happy to take them back.  
I was given a list of names and told to collect them from the barracks. There were at least three or four dozen worgen waiting there anxious to learn their fates. For a moment I stood and gazed round at them and they looked back at me; some defiant, hostile, anxious, some unable to meet my eyes. I unfolded the list and read out the names of those assigned to me; each one stepping forward in turn. I knew the names but it was like meeting strangers, they looked so different. Then:-  
“Nerissina Moonshade”  
She stepped forward a pace and gazed at me steadily. If she had not moved I wouldn’t have known her. The woman I remembered was slim, petite, barely reaching my shoulder. The worgen who faced me was tall, still slender, but more muscular, able to easily look me in the eye. Her red hair had become a dark shaggy mane and her lovely face the muzzle of a wolf covered in fine silver grey hair. Only the eyes were unchanged, but oh so sad.  
When I’d finished calling out the names I ordered them to be ready to leave within the hour. I needed to get back to my patrol and I wanted them to go with me. I figured it would be best to get them straight back into our normal routine.  
I went outside to wait for them. Nerissina’s reappearance had shaken me and I needed some time to myself, to get my feelings under control. She was the first to join me a few minutes later, kitbag in hand. She put it down and stood a few paces away from me gazing out towards the forest. I watched her in silence at first, wondering; did she wish she was still running free out there; then I commented,  
“Arrentai will be happy to know you’ve returned.”  
She looked round at me, and I could see the fear in her eyes.  
“No. He can’t know of this.”  
“Neri, he needs to know. I can’t keep this from him.”  
“If you must tell him I’ve returned, then tell him this also. I don’t want to see him again. Tell him I no longer love him. What we once had is over.”  
She turned away from me, her head bowed, and would say no more.  
“I don’t believe a word of that; but if it’s what you want.”  
“It is.” Her voice was harsh, but still I could hear the sadness; and with sudden insight I realised her reason. She could obviously see no future with Arrentai as she was now and this was her way of ending their relationship.  
Once the others were ready we headed out into the forest to the place where my patrol was camped, waiting for my return. I called them all together and told them what I expected; that they would work together, human and worgen, as one team. There were a few grumbles from them until I made it clear that I would stand no nonsense. After a few days they’d got used to each other and worked as well as they ever had done. The worgen proved to have an unexpected benefit; with their heightened senses they made excellent sentries and we were seldom if ever caught in a surprise attack.   
Problems with the feral worgen tailed off for a while. With worgen in our ranks they seemed more wary about attacking us. Not so the Scourge; they were more trouble than ever, taking over the Plaguelands and making forays into the surrounding countryside. Several platoons, including mine, were sent to keep them contained. But our commanders had underestimated the problem and we were seriously outnumbered. We went into battle knowing we had little chance of winning. So many of us fell that day, dying at the hands of the Scourge’s undead warriors, only to be raised to serve with them. Surrounded by the terrible creatures and their fabricated allies I fought to the bitter end. I never saw the one that struck the blow that killed me; I remember only the icy coldness of its blade as it pierced my heart and stole my soul.  
I awoke in the cold vastness of the Ebon Hold, all my memories gone, to learn that I was now a member of the Scourge, a servant of the Lich King. And I served, loyally, terribly. There was no deed so bad that I would not do it if my dread master asked it of me. I even killed unarmed prisoners without any scruples. I just didn’t care. With no soul, I had no conscience to trouble me.  
However it was one of those prisoners who caused me to doubt what I was doing. She was a pretty blonde girl, well, woman really; she looked to be about the same age as I was when I died; as I still was. We didn’t apparently age although we could still die again... and be raised again at the Lich King’s whim. Anyway she was one of several prisoners being held in a chapel that we had captured from the Scarlet Crusade. They were a varied lot, all different races, all injured in some way or another. I don’t know what they’d done wrong to upset the crusaders, but there they were.  
The Lich King wanted to test my loyalty, I was told. I don’t know why; I’d obeyed every order, committed every foul deed, taken pleasure in the suffering of our enemies; but still it wasn’t enough. I had to go in there and kill this wounded unarmed woman.  
When I walked in all the prisoners stared at me fearfully, wondering whose turn it was to die. More than one of them began to cry. My gaze fell on a goblin and he cowered back, blubbering noisily like a child. I turned away in disgust and walked the length of the room, pausing now and again, delighting in the terror I was causing.  
At last I stopped in front of the woman. She knelt there silently; as my shadow fell on her she knew it was her turn; but she didn’t cry. She looked up at me and I could see the pain on her face. I doubted she had much longer to live anyway. She struggled to her feet and stared at me defiantly.  
“I know you’re going to kill me,” she said quietly, “and I’m ready to die; but I will not do so grovelling at your feet. I’ll meet my death face to face.”  
I laughed coldly, mirthlessly, and drew my sword. The runes etched into the blade glowed in the dimness, lighting my face and she gasped.  
“Gillaen! What have you become? Why are you doing this?”  
I hesitated, confused. She obviously knew me but I had no memory of her.  
“I’m Ellen,” she whispered. “I lived on the farm next to your family’s. We played together as children, grew up together. Don’t you remember me?”  
Her words meant nothing to me; I remembered nothing of my past. I raised my sword.  
“Make it quick, please. Don’t let me become what you are.”  
“Kneel!” I ordered coldly. She did so, her gaze never leaving my face. Outside I heard the officer calling to me to hurry up. With a cry of anger I swung my sword round and took her head off. She would not become the terrible thing that I was. It was the only mercy I could give her.  
I turned away from her blood-soaked decapitated body and gazed at the others, feeling a new strange ache in my heart.  
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “You’re all going to die in the end. I wish I could help you.”  
I walked away from that place feeling the first seeds of doubt growing in my heart. Yet for now I still served, obedient, unquestioning, loyal.   
I infiltrated the ranks of the crusaders to steal their battle plans and learned of their intended assault on our army. Mounted on one of the Scourge’s undead skeletal flying creatures I joined the battle against the Scarlet Crusade at Tyr’s Hand, killing them mercilessly and bringing them into our ranks. My reward was the recognition of the Lich King himself and a new terrifying helmet.  
Only one thing now stood in our way. Light’s Hope Chapel and the forces of the Argent Dawn. We were ordered into battle and unquestioning we obeyed. There were thousands of us; we should have won easily against the few hundred of them. But time and again they beat us back. They fought on the holy ground surrounding the chapel and it seemed to strengthen them. We on the other hand felt weakened, powerless.  
In the end our officers told us to stand down. We waited there not knowing what we would do; even the officers seemed to have little idea.  
Then a paladin appeared in the ranks of the Argent Dawn, his bright armour lighting up the shady woodland about us. Again I felt that pain in my heart, of memories, lost and trying to be found. Paladin – the word had meaning to me, but what? Had I been a paladin? Had I worn that bright armour in my past life, wielded the light like a weapon? I tried so hard to remember and yet I could not. The memories remained tantalisingly just out of reach.   
The paladin called out to Darion Mograine, our commander, his voice weaving memories of Mograine’s past, bringing visions of a child and his father. His words made me want to weep, yet I could not; that ability had been stolen from me along with my soul.  
The Lich King appeared among us and challenged the paladin. He had it seemed been hunting for him and this battle had been a lure to bring him out into the open. Mograine, angered by such betrayal and with the words of his father’s spirit in his heart, turned on the Lich King. He fought bravely but his sword was corrupted and he was not strong enough. Rather than submit he threw his sword to the paladin who blessed it and sprang into battle with it. He would have won, but the Lich King fled, leaving his army to the mercy of his enemies.  
We expected to die, but we did not. The paladin flooded the whole valley with cleansing, restoring light. Overwhelmed I sank to my knees, feeling the light burn the evil from within me, healing me, making me whole again. I remembered once again what I had been, a paladin, a protector, a wielder of the Light, my life devoted to the service of others. And I wept; my tears not for myself, but for all those whose lives I had destroyed.  
I heard the paladin, Tirion Fordring swear to take the battle to the Lich King in Northrend and Mograine agree to go with him.  
I arose unsteadily and walked towards the small, rough built, wooden chapel that had been the focus of our battle. All about me, as far as I could see, were other death knights, many of them dead or seriously injured, some tending their wounds, others just sitting there, lost in their memories. Many like myself wept for the shame and guilt of what we had done.  
Ahead of me knelt a female worgen, a bloody bandage tied round her arm. As I got closer I realised that I knew her. I put my hand on her shoulder and she looked up at me. All this time I hadn’t known that Nerissina too had served the Lich King. I helped her to her feet and together we walked into the chapel and knelt in prayer, vowing that we too would go to Northrend to fight the Lich King. I did not know if I would be strong enough, but it was the only way I knew to expiate my sins, the crimes I had committed against my fellow men.  
Mograine waited as we walked outside. He ordered us back to the Ebon Hold, to cleanse it of what remained of the Scourge. We travelled there by means of a deathgate, a portal, and as we stepped through it I found that I now knew the spell that would summon one whenever I needed it.   
Together with the other death knights we made short work of dealing with the abominations and ghouls that remained. Many had already fled to continue their evil work elsewhere. We would find them eventually. But for now it was enough that we had made a new home for ourselves, a place where we would be welcome, where we could come to train, to repair, to heal, to reforge the rune weapons that we kept.  
We became the Knights of the Ebon Blade; both Horde and Alliance together we would now fight against the Scourge under the command of Darion Mograine. For some time I stayed at the Ebon Hold. I didn’t feel ready to face the wider world; the hunger for killing that the Scourge had inflicted on us was still strong in me, I found it difficult to control and was afraid it would drive me to harm those I was meant to serve. Otherwise I had no problem in adjusting to my new found freedom, in learning how to adapt to a new way of life.  
Life; what an ironic word. What kind of a life could I expect? Technically I was still undead. Our souls, our memories, our emotions; all these had been restored to us; but nothing was said about our bodies, I don’t think anyone knew. We looked alive, as we had always done; well apart from the undead ones, they still looked as though they were about to fall apart; our bodies functioned as before; but we had lost that vital spark of life, and without it we could not create new life. If I chose to do so I could sleep with a woman but I would never be able to father a child, never see future generations come from me.  
Eventually Mograine called me to speak with him, wanting to know why I had not left the Ebon Hold to return to my own people.  
“You have adjusted well, you’re proving to be a good leader; I’ve seen how you’ve helped others who were not so sure of themselves; so why then do you hold back from that final step?”  
When I told him of my fears, he told me that I was underestimating myself; that I was strong enough to cope, to control myself. He handed me a sealed letter.  
“Take this to Varian Wrynn,” he ordered me. “Let him decide if you can’t.”  
And so I left the Ebon Hold by means of a portal that took me to the gates of Stormwind. There was no turning back now, alone in a land that hated and loathed what I had become. I had to present myself to the king. And the only way to reach him was to walk through the streets of the city. It was an ordeal more frightening than many a battle I’d been in. The moment I set foot through the gates I was recognised for what I was; my dark saronite armour, my rune inscribed soulblade, my very eyes with the unholy Scourge light shining bright in them; they all identified me unmistakably. We were hated perhaps even more than the Horde, regarded as traitors to our own kind.  
For the whole of that long walk I was tormented, abused, reviled, threatened. Many spat at me or threw rotten fruit; one or two even drew knives and attacked me. I heard calls for me to be executed. Even the city guards joined in. I took it all. I could not defend myself; to draw my weapon against my own people would have proved me to be all they believed. It was, I knew, my just well-deserved punishment.  
At last I reached the keep and respite from the crowd’s abuse, if not that of the guards. But they couldn’t touch me without orders from the king. I walked slowly up the broad stairs leading to the door and presented Mograine’s letter to the guard. He read the words on the outside and handed it back to me.  
“You take this to the king,” he said sharply. He didn’t want to let me in; that was obvious but he had orders he must obey. I nodded briefly and walked past him, through long corridors until I reached the throne room. Again I was stopped; again I showed the letter; and I was admitted. I hesitated inside the door, unsure of what to do.  
A guard took the letter and handed it to the king. Breaking the seal, he opened and read it. Then he looked up at me and beckoned me forward. I strode forward to stand perhaps two sword lengths away from him, and knelt in submission.  
“So you have come to rejoin the Alliance?”  
“Highlord Mograine believes I am ready to do so,” I replied quietly.  
“But you don’t? I sense doubt in you.”  
“I have many doubts, but if you accept me then I will serve to the best of my ability.”  
He regarded me critically, re-read the letter, and looked up again.  
“Then join us, my friend, and be welcomed back to the Alliance.”  
Still kneeling I swore an oath of fealty to him, the same oath I had sworn to my own king so many years ago. Then at his command I arose, bowed and left the keep. For better or worse I was now a soldier in Stormwind’s army. I made my way to the barracks to sign on and be assigned quarters and duties; then I was told to take the evening off, to explore the city, and get to know my way around.  
I left the barracks and stopped to look around. For the first time I noticed the bright decorations that hung from many buildings. I had no idea even what time of year it was so I asked a guard. He showed no surprise at my question; I suppose he was used to other death knights asking the same thing. It was the feast of midwinter he told me; the eve of the shortest day when people celebrated the returning of the Light as the days grew longer. We’d had similar festivities back in Gilneas.  
I wandered the streets, observing, taking no active part; and eventually I came to an open square. There was a fountain in the centre with a statue of some hero I did not recognise. My memories still had so many gaps.  
Dominating one side of the square was a massive building; pure white stone, towers, spires, windows of coloured glass. I’d never seen it before, but instinctively I knew that this was the Cathedral of Light. I felt drawn towards it, walking slowly up the wide steps and through the always open door. I did not even know if I would be welcome but I had to go in.  
A few robe clad priests watched me warily, but none spoke or approached me as I walked forward. Near the altar I stopped and knelt. And I prayed; for forgiveness, redemption, for the strength to serve; and most of all I prayed that the Light would once more return to me and fill the emptiness in my heart. I became aware of Light filling the building, bathing me in its warmth, healing my pain, my doubts, my fears, but it did not enter me as it had once done. This was how it must be, I now realised. I would serve the Light and it would watch over me, protect me, heal me; but never again would I be able to use it as I had once done. The Scourge, the Lich King had changed me too much.  
I wept for all that I had lost and gave thanks for what I had regained.   
 


	3. Chapter 3

Nerissina   
I travelled by a portal that delivered me to the gates of Stormwind. Part of my penance was to walk alone through the streets to the keep where the king lived. In my dark armour and with the unholy Scourge light in my eyes there was no hiding what I was. The people hated death knights for what we had done and they made sure I knew it. I was reviled, spat at, bombarded with refuse, even threatened with execution as I walked. In silence I took it as a just punishment and made no response. For what I had done I deserved all that and more.  
At the gates to the keep I showed the letter that I bore from Mograine to the king and I was admitted. In the audience chamber I handed over the letter and knelt in silence before the king to await his judgement. After due consideration he welcomed me and bade me join his army. Still kneeling I swore an oath of loyalty to him. Then, dismissed, I reported to the barracks to be given orders. I won’t say that life was easy in Stormwind. As both worgen and death knight I was doubly mistrusted but at least I had a place and a new purpose to my life. The army was a good life for me. I would always suffer that terrible burning hunger the Scourge had inflicted on me but at least in fighting them I had a way to control it.  
Gillaen was among those who joined me and we served together. Sometimes we talked of the past; of our families and our former lives. We knew we could never go back to them, but sometimes it helped make us feel a little more normal. Gillaen knew now that I had never stopped loving Arrentai but he understood the reason for my actions.  
Over the next weeks we spent time clearing out more Scourge in the Plaguelands. It was a never-ending task and good training to knock our new units into shape. When our commanders decided we were ready we were sent to Outland to serve. The shattered remains of a harsh world; it was a hard place to be. We travelled there through the Dark Portal from the Blasted Lands arriving in a place of barren red earth and rock populated by orcs and corrupted beasts and demons. The Hellfire Peninsula was well named. Further on were regions of marshes, forests and wide rolling plains. We saw mountain ranges of tall spires of rock and vast areas corrupted by fel energies. All in all it was a terrible place to be. The only place of respite was the capital city, Shattrath; but even there we couldn’t avoid our enemies. It had been declared a sanctuary open to both Alliance and Horde; a place where we were not allowed to fight but had to walk peacefully side by side. There were many strange new creatures there; some we had to fight, others who needed our help. It had once been the home of the draenei, and some of those creatures had been part of their race in the past. I hated it there but all the time I fought I knew I was growing stronger and closer to the time when I would be able to go to Northrend and fight against the Lich King, and take my revenge against him. Even if I were not the one who struck the fatal blow; and I knew that was most unlikely; I wanted to be there to see it happen. I wanted to see his dead body at my feet and know that he would never again have power over us.  
At last that day came. We were recalled from Outland, going back through the Dark Portal to the Blasted Lands, a place that was scarcely less bleak than the one we had left. We marched to Stormwind and took ship to Northrend. The voyage was rough, stormy and increasingly cold as we went further north. But none of us complained; mostly death knights, we were anticipating our revenge with an unholy delight.  
When we finally landed we were given a few days to acclimatise ourselves before being assigned to our duties. There was a lot of Scourge activity around Icecrown and in Dragonblight, as well as trouble from the blue Dragonflight. The platoon that I was in; commanded by Gillaen; was sent to Dragonblight. Our first duty was to help a group of Earthen Ring members at Star’s Rest to deal with the aftermath of the blue dragonflight’s messing with the leylines and releasing magic that needed to be kept contained. Then we were sent to Mo’aki harbour to help the Tuskarr deal with their problems. After that we were sent on to Wyrmrest temple.   
You would think that the dragons, immortal, infinitely more powerful than us, would be able to deal with their own problems. But, no; they had asked for help from both Horde and Alliance armies. We did all that we were asked and more and willingly. After all, we had been told that our redemption lay in service to others. But at the same time we wanted only to get to Icecrown, to clear it of the Scourge and all its abominations, and to fight the Lich King.  
Then at last the chance came. When the dragons had finished with us we were sent to Wintergarde Keep to the eastern side of Dragonblight. There was plenty to keep us busy there. The Scourge had a floating citadel that they called Naxxramas. They used it as a base to send their foul armies out into the surrounding area and several of our platoons were engaged in getting the region back under our control. We often came across Horde platoons similarly tasked; Gillaen would not fight them; time enough he said after the Scourge was dealt with.  
Gradually we gained a semblance of control; although not beaten they were at least contained in one area. When we had done all we could Commander Wyrmbane received orders to send us to Fordragon Hold to the west. When we arrived we found a huge army gathering in the area between the hold and the Wrathgate, one of the entrances to Icecrown Citadel. Bolvar Fordragon, a careful commander, ordered that a handful of platoons, ours included, be held back in reserve to protect the hold. We watched from the heights as the battle against the Scourge forces began and went on; long, savage and bloody. At length Commander Fordragon and the Horde leader, Dranosh Saurfang fought their way side by side to the gate and challenged the Lich King to come out and face them. He appeared, and fought; Saurfang was struck down and we watched the Lich King raise him as a death knight.  
Beside me I heard Gillaen give a gasp of horror.  
“No more,” he muttered. “You will have no more, Arthas. This has to end.”  
Before the battle could continue large numbers of undead appeared on the heights above the armies. To our horror they began throwing down casks of some vile green concoction that vaporised and engulfed everyone there. The Lich King and his warriors retreated into the citadel; there was no escape for anyone else.  
There was nothing we could do but watch helplessly as the plague of undeath began to claim everyone, Alliance and Horde alike. Gillaen, left in command of the garrison, would not allow anyone to leave the hold. There was nothing we could do; we would only share their fate. Those poor unfortunates would be raised by the undead alchemy to become part of their army.  
“Look!” someone called out.   
We turned to look as a flight of red dragons flew over us, swooping down into the valley, breathing bright flames. Within minutes everything was gone, seared to ash, the whole valley cleansed. I turned away, feeling tears run freely down my cheeks. Gillaen reached out and drew me to him.  
“It was for the best, Neri,” he said gently. “They were dead as soon as that vapour touched them.”  
We stayed there at Fordragon Hold for the next weeks while a new garrison, new officers, a new commander were found. Gillaen was offered the position but he declined. He was a fighter, not an administrator, and he knew that he would soon tire of such a position. And so we moved on into the region of Icecrown, helping to establish the outpost of the Argent Vanguard.  
While we were there we began to hear talk of proposed raids on Icecrown Citadel itself. A full scale assault by the combined armies of the Alliance and Horde had failed; now people were talking about small raiding groups going in and destroying the Scourge from within. Gillaen and I decided that this was probably our best chance at getting an attempt on the Lich King so we took leave that was owing to us and headed for the citadel. The Ashen Verdict had gained a foothold at one of the entrances near its base, and were holding it open to allow adventurers in. We would go there, gather a group of like minded individuals and take our own chance in the citadel.  
And so we set off; it wasn’t so far from our base at the Argent Vanguard and we reached the Citadel quickly and easily, flying in on our winged steeds. Gillaen, always the experienced commander, took a good look at the adventurers who were hanging around waiting to find a group to join and made his choice, inviting them to join us.  
Gillaen   
I looked around at the disparate group of adventurers gathered at the entrance to Icecrown Citadel. They had been eager enough to join in a group with Nerissina and me but none of them seemed too keen on being the first one to enter.  
Some I knew; Nerissina of course; she had fought side by side with me, as human and worgen, since our days in the Gilnean army, then as warriors of the Scourge and now as part of the Alliance forces. And the tauren death knight, I knew her. She’d come later to the Scourge than Nerissina and I; I’d watched her struggle against their control, desperate to keep her identity. When Razuvious had wanted her destroyed as usually happened with such strong minded individuals I’d spoken up on her behalf; I’d instinctively recognised her potential, and time and again had been proved right. Once she’d learned to submit to the Lich King’s will she’d been a fearsome warrior in his army, even more ruthless than me.  
Perditta became aware of my scrutiny and looked at me, nodding in acknowledgement. She said nothing; she seldom spoke; she let her actions speak for her.  
The next two were an odd pair. The first was a dwarf paladin, short, solidly built, ruddy faced, with a long black beard and wild hair. He was deep in conversation with his companion, a tall white haired Kaldorei hunter. Her pet, a striped sabre toothed cat, lay at her feet, yawning lazily, watching over a pair of sleepy cubs.  
Keeping their distance, both from each other and the rest of the group, were two warlocks. The orc, Tarothar, accompanied by a large blue voidwalker, was still, calmly awaiting the order to move. The other was a gnome; restlessly fidgeting, laughing dementedly to himself as his imp pranced about at his feet. I knew of him by repute. Kiriedh Steelbolt wasn’t quite right in the head; he’d lost his wife in the fall of Gnomeregan, and he’d never really recovered from his experiences there; but he was reputed to be an awesome spellcaster if people could cope with his eccentricities.   
The last member of the party was a troll druid. No one knew anything about him, not even his name. He’d just strolled up and joined us without a word. Having a druid for a brother I knew how useful they could be so I accepted him without question.  
It was obvious I was going to be leading the group. It was a role I was used to, and nobody challenged me for the privilege. After my appraisal I called them all together to allocate roles to each. Perditta and I were the best armoured and the most solidly built; we would lead the attacks, keeping the attention of our targets to allow the damage dealers to work. The paladin was a healer, he’d said, but I didn’t know him, didn’t know how good he was. I hoped it would be enough.  
I led them into the entrance passage with Perditta close behind me. As we neared the instance that would give us admittance to the area held by the Ashen Verdict two figures emerged from the shadows. The first, his huge bulk revealing him as tauren, spoke.  
“Could you use some help, friends?”  
Before I had a chance to reply Perditta spoke up; and I could hear the pleasure in her voice.  
“Thaddeus Swiftstorm, you are most welcome, brother. You’ll come as healer, of course?”  
He bowed his great shaggy head in assent as the dwarf muttered indignantly.  
“So I’m not good enough then.”  
“From what I’ve heard,” Thaddeus said, “both of us will be most necessary.”  
I glanced round to see Aralen glare at him, unconvinced, but he said no more.  
Thaddeus’ companion stepped forward and I turned my attention to him. Tall and slender, he wore the unmistakable dark armour and hood of a death knight.  
“I am Tyriyan Sunblade of the Sin’dorei. Like you I wish vengeance on the Lich King. My sword is yours if you will accept it.”  
I smiled briefly; these two would complete my team well.  
“Join us, then, and we will make the Lich King pay dearly for his crimes.”  
They fell in with the others behind me and I strode forward leading them through the instance. Once they were all through I turned to them and said,  
“Be sure that your gear is well repaired and you have all the potions and food you need. I don’t know how long this will take but we’re not leaving until Arthas Menethil lies dead at our feet.... or we lie dead at his.”  
Maybe that was a bit melodramatic but I wanted to impress on them how seriously I was taking this.  
One or two of them purchased extra supplies from the quartermaster there, but it was quickly done.  
We moved on into the citadel in a tight group; Perditta and I leading, then the damage dealers and lastly the healers. The troll shapeshifted into bear form, padding along beside the Kaldorei’s cat, and he fought that way, savage and unstoppable.  
We lost track of the hours as we moved from room to room, hall to hall, mercilessly putting to the sword all the Scourge warriors and abominations, destroying every foul material or equipment that we found. Occasionally I allowed time to rest and eat; but never for long. Driven by the determination, the compulsion to cleanse the citadel of every vile unclean thing it held I pushed my companions on relentlessly.  
We fought against frostbrood dragons; even they could not stand against our determination; and enslaved death knights of every race. One of those was the orc leader we’d seen fall at the Wrathgate. I’d sworn then that the Lich King would have no more for his army. I kept my word; the orc died by my sword, released from his servitude.  
At last we came to the foot of the Spire. I paused and looked up at the steep winding path we must take, eager to be on my way. I was barely aware of the grumbling behind me as Nerissina came to my side. I looked at her and smiled with delight.  
“Not much longer,” I said. “We’re nearly there.”  
“Gillaen, we must take time to rest. They’re exhausted. Look at them. They’ll never be able to fight the Lich King like that.”  
I turned to gaze at our companions and realised that she was right. I had been using an ability that all death knights shared, draining life energy from my victims as I fought them; and I felt strong, empowered, ready for anything. I guessed Nerissina and the other two death knights had done the same. The others did not have that choice and they were all, even the mighty tauren, flagging. I couldn’t leave them and we couldn’t go on as we were. I made the only decision I could.   
“Very well. It must be close to nightfall. We’ll rest here; eat, get what sleep you can. I’ll keep watch.”  
With obvious relief they found a secure spot and settled themselves. Food and drink was shared out and the two healers made sure that any injuries were taken care of. Thaddeus had been right; they had both been needed and had been kept busy the whole day casting endless healing spells, doling out potions and applying bandages. And thanks to them the whole party had made it this far.  
I hoped they’d be able to cope with what was to come. I’d seen the Lich King in action, I knew what he was capable of, knew that so many before us had tried and failed. I, and the other death knights, wanted revenge on the Lich King for all he had done to us and to that end I was prepared to die. But I was the leader of this group; I had accepted responsibility for them, to keep as many of them alive as possible. There would be casualties, it was inevitable; but if so Arthas Menethil would not have them for his undead army. I would make sure of that.  
Chewing on a piece of bread I leant back against the icy wall and looked around. Most of my companions were settling down to sleep now. Not so the Kaldorei; she sat sorting through her arrows, cleaning, repairing, repointing them. Throughout the day she had retrieved them from the dead bodies as we progressed. One or two of the others had looked at her actions with distaste, but I understood her reasoning. The creatures we were likely to find at the pinnacle of the spire were such that we would need many arrows and spells to bring them down. Maelinastra knew she would need every arrow she could lay her hands on and she made sure she was prepared. At last though she too slept.  
Perditta, Tyriyan and I were the only ones left awake. Nerissina, never as strong as me although she’d argue otherwise, was sleeping close by me. Occasionally I let my gaze fall upon her; my thoughts were already there, thinking on what might have been. I’d loved her almost from the first, but she’d never known, and had chosen my brother instead. So I’d kept my feelings hidden from them both. Then she’d become worgen and broken with Arrentai, relying on me for support, but only as a brother. Now, as when we’d served the Scourge, we fought side by side, as fellow soldiers and friends. I wanted it to be more, desperately so, but I knew it could never be. Despite her words I was sure she still loved Arrentai and I would never make her choose between us.  
Lost in my introspection I sat out the long night’s watch in silence. I didn’t speak to either Perditta or Tyriyan. The bond we shared as Knights of the Ebon Blade was not enough to outweigh the factional ties that separated us. Occasionally I heard distant sounds of other groups, other battles, but we remained undisturbed.  
At last the sleepers began to stir; eating a quick but sustaining breakfast for who knew when we’d next have a chance to eat. As we were making our final checks and preparations other adventurers began to drift into the room. The remains of other groups, they wanted to continue but needed some confident leadership. Well, I was what was available on that front and we could use the extra help so I invited them to join us, more than doubling the size of our party.   
Among the newcomers was a pair of young orcs, a warrior and a shaman to judge by their appearance. They looked scared out of their wits. I wandered over to them as they hovered in the doorway.  
“Hello, boys,” I said. “Where’s your group?”  
For moments they stared at me terrified then one of them, the shaman, stammered in poor common, “We got lost.”  
I’ll say they did. They didn’t look old enough to have left their mothers, never mind going into a battle like this. But I couldn’t leave them alone so I told them to join us. Quietly I spoke to the orc warlock.  
“See if you can keep them out of harm’s way and we’ll send them back to their mothers after this is over.”  
He nodded and took the boys to one side, talking quietly with them, as I went to check that everyone was prepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two orc boys were created by my friend. We often use each other's characters in short stories we write for fun and post on our guild page. The tauren Thaddeus is my son's character. All other original characters belong to me.


	4. Chapter 4

Gillaen   
And so we moved on, Perditta and I leading, up the steep snow covered path that wound round the spire to its very summit. None of us knew what to expect, what we would find there. We stepped onto the plateau at the summit and all of us looked around curiously. The vast expanse of ground was flat, ice covered, bare apart from several icy pillars arranged in a circle some distance from the edge. No one went near the edge; with the wind buffeting us it would be all too easy to slip and fall into the dark emptiness that surrounded us. I looked down at the ice beneath my feet; below it I could see the faint shadowy marks of fault lines; that could potentially be a risk. At the far side of the plateau rose an icy pinnacle, a flight of smooth wide stairs leading to what appeared to be a throne. On it sat the ice-encased figure of an armoured man. Near the foot of the stairs a paladin knelt in prayer as he awaited our coming.  
“Is that him?” asked Aralen at my side as the last stragglers reached the top of the path. I nodded. Even now, freed from the Lich King’s control, I still felt the awful power of the Scourge’s dread leader. I prayed I had the strength, the courage to face him.  
I turned to face my companions.  
“I don’t know what to expect,” I admitted. I wouldn’t lie to them. “Arthas has all manner of demons at his beck and call, and I have no doubt he will use them. If you have ranged weapons or spells concentrate on anything that flies. We death knights will take on Arthas himself, the rest of you deal with anything else. And healers... try to keep us alive.”   
Once satisfied that everyone was ready I strode forward to the foot of the stairs. Nerissina, Perditta and Tyriyan stood in a half circle a few yards behind me, the others had all spread out ready to take on whatever came.  
The paladin rose as I approached, and turned to face me. A tall grey haired bearded man, I knew him from Light’s Hope Chapel; Tirion Fordring. He smiled sadly.  
“So, yet another group of heroes come to fight the Lich King. I wish you luck, my friends. I will help you if I am able.”  
He turned to face the frozen throne as I issued my challenge at the top of my voice.  
“Arthas! Come down and fight us. Or are you too much of a coward to face those who once served you now we are free?”  
For a moment nothing happened as my words echoed among the peaks. Then slowly the ice encasing the Lich King began to splinter and crack, falling away in glistening shards as he stood up. He was tall, imposing, intimidating. I swallowed nervously as my apprehension threatened to get the better of me. I wanted nothing more than to turn and run, but I’d sworn to kill him; I couldn’t turn back now. I had to finish what I’d started. Taking his time he descended the stairs.  
“Are you so eager to return to my service? Welcome. And you have brought more servants for me, how thoughtful!”  
His words were the goad I needed to bolster my courage. I stood there resolute as Fordring stepped forward and also challenged him. The Lich King merely waved his hand dismissively and encased the paladin in a block of ice. Had he expected this when he’d said he’d help if he was able, I couldn’t tell.  
I drew my sword, the demonic runes I’d forged into the blade shimmering in the dim light.  
“No more, Arthas,” I shouted. “There will be no more slaves for your vile army. We are here to destroy you!”  
Without warning I sprang forward, swinging my sword in a powerful blow that would have decapitated a normal man. But the Lich King was no normal man. He parried the blow with ease, knocking me back with the flat of his blade. Regaining my balance I pressed forward with my fellows at my side. The Lich King was easily a match for the four of us, but gradually we began to wear him down while all around us battle raged between mortals and demons. Then the Lich King began to cast dark magics revealing his true and awesome power. He used a spell similar to one that I knew, but infinitely more powerful. The icy blasts knocked half of us off our feet, but we quickly sprang up again. Time and again Arthas struck with his spells and time and again we fought back.  
Behind me I became aware of the dwarf commenting every time a demon fell. Aralen had obviously realised that I had very little idea of what was happening around me and he was trying to keep me informed. I was grateful; it encouraged me to know that we were having some success. At the same time I was aware of the little paladin’s healing spells constantly boosting me and the other death knights while Thaddeus concentrated on all the others. Even so I was beginning to tire. Dodging a savage blow I stumbled as Arthas yelled out, “Watch as your world crumbles about you!”  
There was the sound of cracking ice and I saw the edges of the summit break away and fall into the depths below. The next instant came a yell of horror from Aralen.  
“Maelinastra, no! She’s fallen!”  
The young Kaldorei had been shooting from a position by one of the pillars and had obviously been too close to the edge when it crumbled. Before I could react the troll druid, who been fighting in bear form, turned from his opponent and dashed to the edge, transforming into flight form as he leapt after her. I had no time to see more as the Lich King renewed his attack.  
Maelinastra  
I tumbled through the cold air gaining speed, knowing I could not survive the fall. We’d been too high above the ground. But I would not cry out or reveal my fear; I would die with what courage I could muster. Closing my eyes I whispered a prayer to Elune. Then I felt claws snatch at my shoulder, digging deeply into my flesh, and I heard the sound of rapidly beating wings. Incredibly my rate of descent slowed. I still hit the ground hard but I was alive. After a moment I opened my eyes and looked up at a huge blue plumaged stormcrow. It released its grip and settled beside me, changing into the troll who’d been fighting alongside us.  
He squatted there looking at me anxiously.  
“You be all right, sister?” he asked.  
I sat up.  
“I think so. Better than I thought I’d feel.”  
I reached out to touch his hand and smiled.  
“Thank you, my friend. If not for your help I would have died.”  
“My pleasure, sister. Ezeekial be always happy to help a lady, even if she be Alliance.” He grinned, then glanced up at the citadel behind us.  
“I should be going back up. They need me. But I can’t be carrying you up.”  
“Go,” I insisted. “I’ll be fine.”  
I could see he wasn’t convinced about my well-being, but there was no help to be seen, and as he’d said he was needed on the summit. I watched as he shapeshifted back to the stormcrow, sprang into the air and flew off, circling up until he was out of sight.  
I couldn’t stay where I was, it was far too cold. I struggled to my feet and looked around. I wasn’t far from the entrance to the citadel; if I could make it back there I could get help. My injured shoulder was bleeding freely and my whole arm felt numb but I could walk. I picked up my bow in my uninjured hand and set off.  
I hadn’t gone far when I saw a tall figure coming towards me through the swirling snow. As he got close I saw his blue hair and purple skin; a Kaldorei.  
“Let me help you,” he offered. “I saw you fall, saw the druid catch you.”  
He came to my side and threw a warm cloak round my shoulders. I stumbled dizzily and he caught me before I could fall, helping me to walk.  
“I’m Josstellan,” he introduced himself. With his help I made it to the citadel’s entrance where healers tended my wounds.   
“Are they still fighting?” I asked. An elderly human mage nearby holding a scrying orb answered me.  
“Yes, but I don’t know how it goes. The image is not clear.”  
I stood a little unsteadily.  
“I have to go back up. They may need me.”  
“You don’t have the strength,” Josstellan pointed out, “and it may already be too late.”  
“I must try,” I insisted.  
For a moment he looked at me.  
“All right, then. Come with me.”  
“Why?”  
“I’m a mage. I can open a portal for you to the Upper Spire.”  
He led me to a clear area and began to cast. A circle was marked on the ground and the portal opened on it. As soon as it stabilised I stepped through, my bow at the ready to begin firing. I took in the scene at a glance; it wasn’t good. The battle was almost over. The demons were dead but so too were most of our group; their battered and mangled bodies were strewn across the plateau. The tauren and worgen death knights lay motionless in pools of blood the other two still fought on but I could see both were weakening. It was debatable whether they or the Lich King would fall first. Some distance away the tauren healer lay propped up against a pillar, bleeding badly, his leg obviously shattered from the angle at which it lay, yet he still kept pouring his healing at the death knights. I grabbed a nearby quiver of arrows and began firing, launching an endless stream at the Lich King in an effort to distract him. It was too late for the Sin’dorei; he fell, slashed across his body, and did not rise again.  
Gillaen  
I had no time to wonder about the fate of the Kaldorei. The druid returned after a few minutes; but, transforming directly from bird to bear, he said nothing; dashing right back into the thick of it. Around me I was aware that members of my group were beginning to fall. Exhausted, badly wounded, they were an easy target for the demons. I saw Perditta fall, attacked from behind as she battled a huge shambling monstrosity. Then Nerissina fell, cut down by the Lich King. Tyriyan and I renewed our attack before he could touch her, driving him back from her body. A stream of arrows passed me, hitting him, distracting him but it was too late for Tyriyan. He faltered and was cut down. I was on my own apart from the archer.  
I stumbled and fell to my knees as the Lich King raised his sword ready to deal the final blow.  
“You have proved yourself a worthy opponent. Surrender your soul. Return to serve me again and I will let the last of your companions live.”  
I was exhausted; I scarcely had the strength left to hold my sword, much less wield it and Arthas’ voice was so persuasive, so beguiling. It would be so easy to give in, to surrender my soul, to once again let the Lich King control me, to forget who I was and what I fought for. Then my glance fell on Nerissina’s body. I would never give the woman I loved back to that torment. My enduring love for Nerissina strengthened my resolve.  
With a superhuman effort I forced myself to my feet, yelling,  
“Never! I would sooner burn in hell than serve you again.”  
I swung my sword round and thrust it through the Lich King’s heart. As he staggered back I pulled the blade free and let it fall. I could only pray my blow had been enough to finish Arthas. Bleeding from my many wounds I was weakening rapidly. I could do no more. I fell, aware only of the approaching welcoming darkness of true death. I surrendered willingly, eager for the release it would give.  
Maelinastra  
I saw Gillaen’s last effort, watched him fall motionless at the Lich King’s feet. It was over, we had lost. I sank to my knees, watching as the Lich King lowered the point of his sword to Gillaen’s body, ready to reclaim the death knight as his own. Then I heard the cracking of ice. The paladin that the Lich King had imprisoned had somehow managed to break free. He challenged the Lich King and in a few short moments finished what Gillaen, what we, had started.  
It was over. Lich King and death knight lay side by side on the icy ground watched over by the paladin. I lowered my bow and glanced at the tauren. He was motionless, his eyes closed. Yet he still breathed. So few of us did. Of our original group, only the tauren and I, of the reinforcements, only the two orc boys and a dwarf rogue. I stood up and walked towards Thaddeus, almost tripping over a body. I looked down, it was Snowtooth my cat; he’d died defending me against the demons shortly before I fell. I rested my hand gently on his striped pelt and tried to summon the strength for one last spell. I couldn’t find it within me, could not resuscitate my loyal friend. I knelt there, tears pouring down my cheeks.  
Then I became aware of a warmth pervading the chill air and I looked up. A ghostly figure knelt by the Lich King’s body and a warm glow began to touch each of the mortal bodies. Incredibly they began to stir, healed, apparently by the ghost. Even Snowtooth; he stirred under my hand, rolled over and got to his feet, pushing up against my shoulder. Overjoyed I flung my arms round his neck, drying my tears on his soft fur.  
Gillaen  
“Let me heal you. Choose to live. There is so much more that you can do. Accept the blessing of the Light.”  
The words penetrated the darkness, drawing me back from oblivion. The Light! For so long I’d sought to regain that which I had lost; now it was being offered to me freely.  
“I accept!” my soul cried out. “I choose life and the Light!”  
At once I felt the healing warmth of the Light fill my body, mending my injuries, giving me new strength.  
I opened my eyes to see Arthas’ dying body close by. I recognised the ghost that knelt beside it as Terenas Menethil, Arthas’ father, former king of Lordaeron. Slowly getting to my feet I retrieved my sword and sheathed it; all the while watching, listening to the words spoken between father and son. Arthas died in his father’s arms, the Scourge light fading from his eyes. Then Terenas looked past me and spoke again. I turned, seeing as I did that my companions were all rising to their feet. Though whether they saw what I was seeing I could not tell. Behind me stood Tirion; in his hands he held Arthas’ helm.  
“There must always be a Lich King,” Terenas said, “The Scourge must be controlled.” The paladin raised the helm as if to place it on his own head, only to be interrupted. Everyone turned to look up at the frozen throne. A new occupant sat there, a man with a scorched and blackened body. He claimed the helm and the responsibility for holding the Scourge in check. I realised that I knew him; it was Bolvar Fordragon. Yet I’d seen him felled by the undead plague at the Wrathgate; seen his body seared by the dragons’ flames. How had he survived to be here now?  
For moments Tirion hesitated; then he walked up the steps and placed the helm on Bolvar’s head. There was a sudden flash of icy light and I felt my blood run cold. Would this new Lich King be as bad as Arthas Menethil, or would he hold to his word and keep the Scourge controlled. Only time would tell.  
Ice was already beginning to encase his body as I turned away. I must see to the care of my companions. It would be a long trek down the mountain to leave the citadel and I wanted to be far from this place and all its memories.   
A new path had opened up where the side of the plateau had crumbled away and the strangers who had joined us for the final assault were starting to make their way down it. As I watched them Nerissina came to my side.  
“Is it over now? Are we finally free of him?”  
“I hope so, I really hope so.”  
I doubted I could face another battle like this one.  
Thaddeus approached us, limping slightly on his newly healed leg.  
“I will bid you farewell,” he rumbled in his deep voice. “I have far to go, and it will take me time to get there”  
“Not so long, I think,” said a quiet voice behind us. We turned to look at Maelinastra. Somehow she had survived her fall and found her way back up to us. I was glad to see her.  
A portal had opened near the centre of the plateau and through it stepped a tall blue haired Kaldorei mage.  
“I thought you could use a quick way down from here. The troll told me some of you were injured.”  
“Has he left already? He was a strange one; not as talkative as they usually are,” Thaddeus commented.  
“But quick to act when needed,” Maelinastra said softly.  
“Aye, that he was, lass,” Aralen commented, strolling across to us. He’d been checking out the dead demons for scrap metal and weapons to use for his blacksmithing. “He saved your life, true enough.”  
“Would a portal to Orgrimmar suit you?” the mage asked.  
“That would be most kind,” Thaddeus answered, “and much quicker than flying.”  
Behind him, Perditta and Tyriyan nodded. The orc Tarothar merely grunted. The mage cast his portal spell and watched as the horde members went through. Then he closed it.  
“Where to for the rest of you?” he asked. It turned out we were all staying in Northrend and none of us going far, so he opened a portal to the citadel entrance. Aralen, laden with his loot, stepped through, commenting as he did that he could really do with a pint. I laughed, the first time I’d done so in far too long. It felt good. Then I turned to look for Kiriedh. The little gnome was wandering around disconsolately, muttering to himself.  
“What’s wrong, Kiriedh?” I asked.  
“I can’t find my boy. Have you seen him?”  
I gave an exasperated sigh. I’d not seen the imp since the battle had ended. It must have disappeared when its master had fallen. Surely he realised that? Apparently not.  
“I think,” said Nerissina gently, “that you might find him if you come through the portal with us and call him.”  
At that the gnome brightened and happily went through ahead of us. The Kaldorei followed and the mage closed the portal behind us. It didn’t take long to find Aralen. An enterprising goblin had set up a stall selling all manner of refreshments and the dwarf was already ordering drinks for us all. A handful of old battered tables and mismatched chairs had been set up nearby. Taking our drinks we chose one and sat down. I removed my helmet and set it down beside me, glad to be free of its weight. I’ll admit it was good for striking fear into my enemies with its horns and all making me look like a demon but it was damned uncomfortable to wear. But that’s the Scourge for you; it’s all about striking fear not comfort.  
I sipped my beer as Nerissina got into a conversation with Aralen and Kiriedh about mining and where were the best places to find different ores. Since we’d left the Scourge she’d taken up blacksmithing as a sideline to try to save money on armour repairs and improvements. Personally I preferred tinkering with engineering. I was learning to make some amusing toys but nothing that was much use in battle, apart from the exploding sheep. They could be useful if I could only get them to go in the right direction.  
I let my thoughts drift, making no effort to join the conversation, and my gaze fell on the two Kaldorei. The mage, who’d introduced himself as Josstellan Ravenwing, sat beside Maelinastra listening quietly to the conversation. He knew nothing about mining, he’d said; enchanting was his chosen trade; but he seemed interested in what they were saying.  
Maelinastra was silent as she sipped at her drink. She looked at me briefly and her eyes seemed unfocussed as though she was not really seeing me. I put my cup down and reached out to touch her arm.  
“Are you all right?” I asked, concerned. Slowly she shook her head. Her skin felt unnaturally hot to my touch, yet she was trembling as though cold.  
“I feel dizzy; can’t see clearly,” she murmured, her voice slurred as though she were drunk; but she wasn’t. The cup slipped from her fingers, spilling most of its contents on the table. The wine soaked into the bare wood leaving a dark stain.  
“Feel so tired.”  
She let her head drop onto her arms as they rested on the table and closed her eyes. Josstellan had turned his attention to her, but he clearly had no more idea than I what was wrong.  
“Aralen!” I interrupted his heated conversation with the gnome to gain his attention. The dwarf was equally concerned. Unable to tell what was affecting Maelinastra he was unsure of how he could heal her.  
“Is there anywhere quieter than here?” he asked. Josstellan nodded. Lifting Maelinastra gently, easily in his strong arms he led us to the side of the entrance chamber, to a row of curtained cubicles. The one he chose held merely a mattress on the floor and a small table. A few personal items sat on the table and under it were an assortment of bags.  
Josstellan laid Maelinastra down gently and began to loosen the leather jerkin that served her as armour. He pushed it away from her shoulder and we saw the blood-soaked bandage that bound it. Carefully Aralen lifted it away. The wounds that looked to me like claw marks were red and inflamed, oozing blood and pus.   
Josstellan looked up as a Kaldorei woman pushed past me and entered the cubicle. Green-haired, wearing healer’s robes covered by a voluminous blood stained apron, she was all efficiency.  
“Ah, Karinna,” he said. “Just the person we need.”  
“I saw you bring her in here,” was all she said.  
I knew nothing of healing; I stood back out of the way, but I wouldn’t leave until I was assured that Maelinastra would be all right.  
Aralen made room for Karinna so she could examine the feverishly restless hunter.  
“She’s been poisoned by fel blood entering her wounds,” she said. “They were clean enough when I dressed them earlier. There’s nothing else can have done this so quickly.”  
“But how?” Aralen demanded. “None of those accursed demons got near her. She was shooting them out of the sky from the edge of the platform. Then she fell. She wasn’t injured then.”  
“The troll!” Josstellan said. We turned to look at him.  
“Lad, I know trolls are ugly bastards and Horde with it, but that hardly qualifies them as demons.”  
“No. What form was he fighting in? Bear? Cat? Moonkin?”  
“Bear, but what’s that got to do with it?”  
“He caused those wounds when he saved her. He slowed her fall by grabbing her on the shoulder with his claws. If he was fighting in bear form then he had contact with the demons; their blood was on his claws.”  
“And shapeshifting from bear to stormcrow would not remove the blood from his claws,” Karinna finished.  
“Can you do anything?” Josstellan asked. “Can you heal her?”  
“I don’t know. There are herbal remedies I can try, and nature magic and your friend here can try using the healing Light; but I don’t know.”  
I watched as the three of them tended her, each according to their particular skill. At last Karinna said,  
“We’ve done all we can. Now all you can do is wait.”  
“She can’t stay here,” Aralen said.  
“No,” Josstellan agreed. “I’ll take her back to Darnassus. There are healers at the Temple of Elune who can care for her.”  
A few minutes later the dwarf and I stood side by side watching as the Kaldorei mage cast the teleport spell that transported him, the hunter in his arms and all their belongings away from Icecrown.  
“I hope she’ll recover,” I said quietly.  
“So do I, lad,” Aralen replied.  
We returned to the table we’d occupied earlier. Nerissina sat there alone. Kiriedh, she told us, had found his imp and had gone off happily. Sitting down I briefly told her what had happened; then reached for my half finished beer. I was just about to take a drink when a trooper approached us.  
“Gillaen Bearheart?” he asked.  
“Yes.”  
“There’s a message for you and the worgen. You are to report to Wintergarde Keep as soon as possible.”  
I sighed and swallowed a mouthful of beer. The trooper stood there waiting, apparently, for an answer. I made him wait; I wasn’t going to hurry. I figured we’d earned the right to rest awhile.  
“Okay,” I said at last. “You’ve delivered your message. You can go.”  
We took our time over our drinks. It was several drinks and a meal later when we finally bade farewell to Aralen, gathered our belongings and walked out through the instance. We stood on the icy terrace near the meeting stone and as one summoned our winged steeds.


	5. Chapter 5

Gillaen   
We never did make it to Wintergarde Keep.   
We were both tired; we needed to get away from Icecrown and all its memories; and we needed time to rest and get over our experience. When you think about it, dying, even temporarily, is pretty stressful. Not something you can easily shrug off. And this time had been totally different from the first time I’d died. Then my death had been complete, no awareness of what was happening, oblivion. This time I’d been aware of everything. I’ve heard some death knights say they don’t feel any pain; they were raised without that ability. Not me; I feel everything; too much sometimes. I’d felt every wound inflicted on me by the Lich King and his servants; been aware of the slow but steady flow of blood from them. And the healing; that really hurt. When you’re alive healing by Light magic leaves you feeling warm, comforted. But undeath is anathema to the Light; we can be healed by it, but you feel as though it’s burning you from the inside out. I’d taken a fair bit of healing from Aralen so you could imagine what my body was feeling like.   
So I turned our course towards Dalaran. A storm was beginning to blow up so we flew low to hopefully get some shelter from the surrounding mountains.  
And because we did I saw the two lonely figures struggling through the snow. Who the hell was stupid enough to venture out here on foot in this weather I wondered as I flew lower to get a better look. One of them tripped and fell flat on his face in the snow. The other looked up as my shadow passed over them and looked wildly about him, obviously not knowing whether to run and hide or help his friend.  
I landed close by them, Nerissina hovering just overhead, and got a close look at them. I realised then that it was the two orc boys, the ones I’d said I’d see back to their mothers; and I’d totally forgotten about them.  
“Hello, boys,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the howling wind.  
“What are you doing out here? You should have got a portal back to wherever you came from.”  
I just knew I wasn’t going to like the answer. The one still on his feet, the warrior, if I remembered correctly, eventually stammered out an answer.  
“Dalaran, we’re going to Dalaran.”  
I sighed in disbelief; I couldn’t help it; I’d never met an orc quite as incompetent as this pair. How they’d ever made it through basic training, I couldn’t guess.  
“Had you actually given any thought as to how you were going to get up there?”  
He looked at me blankly; then gazed up at the misty bulk of the city floating far above us in the distance. I saw realisation dawn on his face together with utter dismay as he looked down at his feet and slowly shook his head. He obviously didn’t know of the portal at the Violet Stand, even assuming they could find their way down into Crystalsong Forest and survive that place.  
“I didn’t think so. Well I can’t leave you out here. You’re frozen solid as it is. Get your friend and we’ll give you a lift.”  
I turned to wave Nerissina down as he hauled his friend to his feet. They stood there waiting for orders, shivering in their totally inadequate clothing, as I briefly explained the situation. Nerissina wasn’t too happy at the prospect of being that close to an orc, but she agreed that we couldn’t leave them to freeze. I pointed to the smaller of the two.  
“You, the scrawny one, you can ride with Nerissina; and you, with me. Now move it.”  
Even with our good thick clothes and cloaks it was bitterly cold and I’d had enough. The warrior approached me cautiously, clearly nervous of my mount. I didn’t give him a chance to wonder how he was going to get on it; as soon as he was close enough I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up in front of me. It can’t have been comfortable sitting straight on the bony spine, but to give him credit he never complained. Glancing over my shoulder I saw Nerissina do the same to the shaman. Our mounts made their usual vertical take-offs and we headed towards the floating city.  
I didn’t head for Krasus’ Landing. I figured these boys were too frozen to walk from there to the Horde enclave even assuming they knew the way. Instead I landed in the street near its entrance, scattering unwary citizens left and right. Nerissina landed beside me. The Sin'dorei mages guarding the enclave eyed me warily. I beckoned to one and she came across to me. Fortunately I spoke some Thalassian; I’d picked it up during my time in the Scourge, so I was able to make myself understood.  
“I think these belong to you,” I said cheerfully. “They need thawing out, I’m afraid. They tried to walk back from Icecrown.”   
We lowered the boys to the ground where they stood quaking in their boots as the ice began to melt off them thanks to the magically maintained temperate climate of the city. I looked at them, my sympathy aroused by their woebegone look.  
“Take my advice, boys,” I said, “Go back to Durotar and get some survival training before you come back here.”  
They nodded and stammered their thanks; obviously they’d been brought up to have manners even if they didn’t have much common sense. Slowly, stiffly, they made their way across the street and into the enclave. Shoulders hunched, reluctant, they were clearly expecting trouble from their officers.  
“Oh, and by the way, boys,” I called out, loud enough for half the street to hear. They stopped, turned slowly and gazed at me apprehensively. I grinned. “Thanks for your help with the Lich King.”  
I’d swear they both grew several inches on the spot. They straightened, grinned back at me and saluted smartly.  
“Thanks for bringing them back alive,” the mage said as they disappeared into the enclave.  
“I know some people who will be glad to see them. Tell me, did they really help kill the Lich King?”  
“To be honest,” I replied, “I have no idea what if anything they did do, I was kind of busy myself; but they were there. Go easy on them; they’ve had a tough time.”  
So had we if truth were told; I was tired; I wanted nothing more than a hot meal, a cold beer and a warm bath to help me relax. I dismounted, landing mere inches from the Sin’dorei who involuntarily took a step back. I didn’t mean to startle her but she was clearly nervous. Nerissina came to my side as I lifted my bags from my steed and dismissed it to whatever nether region it went to when I wasn’t riding it. That was obviously too much for the small, slender guard; faced with two tall, well armed and armoured death knights she decided that discretion was the better part of valour and went back to her post.  
I shrugged dismissively; I couldn’t help how people reacted to the sight of us; and Nerissina and I strolled off in the direction of the Alliance enclave, taking a shortcut through Runeweaver Square.  
“That was good, what you said to the boys,” she commented, “You didn’t have to do that.”  
“I know. They’re pretty inept but they seemed nice enough lads and they’re going to have a hard enough time when they get back to Durotar and report in to Razor Hill. Did you notice their insignia? They’re only just out of basic training; Light alone knows how they ended up here. I just thought they could do with a confidence boost. I know how it feels when you can’t do anything right.”  
“You? I thought you were good at everything.”  
I laughed.  
“You are looking at the worst apology for a druid there ever was. I memorised every spell my parents could teach me, I still remember them all; but I can’t use them. I simply cannot channel the nature magic, can’t feel it at all. My whole family are druids; they have been for more generations than I can count. Not me though; for some reason I had to be different. It’s why I joined the army; you don’t need magic to use a sword.”  
“But you became a paladin.”  
“Yes. Ironic wasn’t it? I found my affinity was for the Light. All those things I couldn’t do with nature magic I could do with the Light. But without the encouragement from our officers I would never have tried. So yes, I know how those boys feel.”  
“It was so different for me,” Nerissina mused. “I always knew the Light was the way for me. I think I would have become a priest, a healer, if I had not quarrelled with my family and joined the army. After that becoming a paladin was the obvious move.”  
“It was hard to lose the Light when we became Scourge. I’d waited so long to find a meaning for my life, then to have it all torn away in the blink of an eye.”  
“I lost it sooner than that. When I became worgen. As soon as I regained my awareness of who I was I could feel it slipping away from me. I felt that I was losing everything that had made me who I was; that I was becoming something that was no longer Nerissina. If it hadn’t been for Tomas Harford I think I would have gone insane in Shadowfang.”  
We reached the door to the inn and went inside. It was quiet, almost deserted. Nerissina chose a secluded corner seat while I went to the bar and gave our order to the innkeeper; a hot meal and plenty of drink. It was obvious that Nerissina needed to talk; my bath would have to wait. I carried the first two tankards of ale to the table and handed one to Nerissina. She took a large swallow of it as I sat down; then went on with her narration.  
“He helped me, showed me how to come to terms with my new identity. We escaped from there together. He was a good friend... and they made me kill him. The Scourge... they said it was a test of my loyalty. They couldn’t know it was the start of my breaking free. The day I started to question what I was doing. Now I’m finally free of the Scourge but I still don’t know...”  
She downed the rest of her drink and sat staring at the empty mug in silence.  
I sipped my own drink, watching her with concern.  
“What don’t you know?”  
“Who I am; what I am even. I was Nerissina Moonshade, paladin, soldier, Arrentai's lover. Not anymore. The Scourge changed that; they made me into a cold-blooded merciless killer. It’s not what I want to be, but I don’t have a choice.”  
I gazed at her thoughtfully. She obviously had the same fears that I did; that the hunger would take control of her; make her a danger to anyone round her. I wasn’t sure how to help; how could I advise her when I didn’t know how to deal with it myself. I answered her honestly.  
“I don’t want to be like that either; but I think we do have a choice. We’re not slaves to the Scourge now; we were given our freedom at Light’s Hope Chapel; the freedom to choose what we want to be, how we want to live our lives. I’m not saying it will be easy. There will be times when the hunger is strong and we want to give in to it. But we can choose to fight against it. I don’t know if we’ll succeed but we can at least try.”  
She looked up at me and nodded. I could see the unshed tears in her eyes. Damn, how it hurt that I couldn’t comfort her as I wanted to; but she still loved my brother and that put an insurmountable barrier between us.  
Just then the barmaid brought our meals and a large jug of ale to the table; and the tension of the moment was broken. I refilled our tankards as Nerissina picked up a piece of meat from her plate and began to eat. She didn’t bother with cutlery, holding it in her claws and tearing at it with her fangs. I turned my attention to my own meal; I preferred not to watch her eat like that; it emphasised too much the wolf in her nature and the difference between us.  
We stayed in Dalaran for a few more days, until our leave was officially over. There was plenty to do, fishing, hunting; I even learned a few new recipes from the chef in the inn. But at last our time ran out. We had to head for Wintergarde.  
We were packed and ready to leave when the first news arrived about the cataclysm that had devastated much of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. Nobody knew many details but rumours spread round the city within minutes of the messengers arriving. Rumours of lands broken, towns destroyed, even cities damaged, of whole settlements sunk into the seas and of countless lives lost.  
We didn’t know what to believe; there were so many contradictory tales.  
Anyone who could help was asked to do so. We volunteered at once; the Scourge would keep. Our families were there in the midst of the devastation. Even if they believed us dead; and it was better they did so than know what we had become; we had to be sure that they were still alive, safe.   
Getting back proved to be difficult. The usual shipping routes were disrupted due to increased activity in the region of the maelstrom and damage to many of the ports. Mage portals were a risk; who knew if your chosen destination was still there or had been destroyed. In the end we found passage on a ship that was sailing from Valgarde in the Howling Fjord. By crossing towards Tirisfal Glades and then keeping close to the coast until they reached Menethil harbour the captain hoped they would be far enough away from the maelstrom not to get drawn into it.   
The long voyage would have been uneventful had it not been for the length of time since Nerissina and I had last fought. The hunting we’d done during our leave had been enough for us to maintain our self-control; but on board the ship there was no way to satisfy the hunger and it grew daily until it became unbearable. Nerissina, I could tell, felt the same. As much as possible we kept away from the other passengers and the crew; and I’d taken the precaution of handing all our weapons to the captain and warning him of what might happen.  
A few days later I snapped. It was dawn, the sky barely showing a hint of colour in the darkness. Restless, unable to settle in our cabin, I’d gone on deck and doused myself with cold water from the barrel of sea water that was kept there. Sometimes that helped a little to calm me. Then I wandered to the prow and stood there, half naked, soaking wet, letting the chill wind dry me. I stared into the distance, hoping to see land ahead of us. Lost in my thoughts I didn’t hear the man come up behind me until he made some derogatory remark concerning the scar across my back, the one from the Scourge blade that had killed me. I forget the words he used but basically he was implying that I was a coward for having a wound on my back.  
Slowly I turned to face him, revealing the multitude of scars I bore on my front. I could feel my anger rising, my self-control slipping as the hunger got the better of me. Before he could react I grabbed him by the throat and started punching him. I could hear voices shouting, but I ignored them; all that mattered to me was sating the hunger. I had no self-control left.  
I was knocked flying and lost my grip on the man. I hit out at the person who held me and felt the sharpness of claws digging into my bare flesh, heard the bestial growl near my head. I felt hands grab hold of my arms and legs, pinning me to the rough deck.   
I struggled against the restraint, swearing angrily, threatening to kill the person keeping me from my victim. It took several well-aimed blows across my face to penetrate the red fog of my rage, to bring me back to my senses.  
“Enough, Gillaen! Stop! You need to control yourself or they’ll kill you.”  
I let myself go limp and lay there, pinned down by the person sitting on me. After a while I felt calm enough to open my eyes and look up at Nerissina.  
“Okay,” I said slowly, “I’m okay now. I’ll stop fighting.”  
Nerissina gazed down at me and grinned, baring her fangs.  
“You sure know how to fight dirty...sir.”  
It had the desired affect; I burst out laughing. Nerissina got off me and stood up. The hands holding me relaxed a little but did not let go. The captain came into view beside Nerissina. He didn’t look very happy.  
“Are you in control of yourself?” he demanded, “Or do I have to lock you up until we reach Menethil?”  
I looked up at him, silent for a moment.  
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll be all right now. The man I was fighting; is he all right? I didn’t kill him, did I?”  
“No, you didn’t. He’s going to have one hell of a headache. But maybe that will teach him to obey orders when he’s told to stay away from someone.”  
He gestured to the burly sailors holding me down and they released me, moving quickly away, obviously nervous of what I might do. Slowly I sat up.  
“I’ll stay in the cabin until we arrive at Menethil.”  
I got slowly to my feet and returned to the cabin followed by Nerissina. As she closed the door I turned to look at her.  
“Mograine was wrong. I’m not ready for this. If I can’t control myself I’m a danger to anyone I work with. If you hadn’t stopped me I’d have killed that man.”  
“Gillaen, he deliberately goaded you. Most people would have reacted to that. Don’t sell yourself short. Listen; you’re a good soldier, a leader. You get things done. Hey, you fought the Lich King and walked away. Not many people can say that. So come on, cheer up.”  
For a long moment I just looked at her, considering; then I grinned and threw her a salute.  
“You aiming to take my job?” I teased her and she laughed.  
We arrived at Menethil two days later. Nerissina and I were standing on deck as the ship pulled into the harbour and we had a good view of the damage that had been done. Parts of the pier had been smashed, the sea defences had been breached and the sea water was lapping at the foundations of the quayside buildings. When we disembarked and walked into the town we could see how far the damage went. All the streets were under water and only piles of sandbags were keeping it out of the buildings.   
There was little we could do to help here. We were supposed to report to our commanders in Stormwind but we had to know how Gilneas had been affected. Summoning our winged steeds we flew northwards, following the coast round until we came to the end of the Greymane wall. At first the land seemed unaffected, then we saw that the gate which had protected our home for so many years had been breached, leaving the land open and unprotected. We flew over the capital city and saw the deserted streets, the empty harbour at Keel. Even so we were unprepared for the devastation that met our eyes further south. Greymane Manor still stood, but Duskhaven and all the farmland south of it, right to the fishing docks was gone; broken by earth tremors and washed away by the sea. Turning eastwards we flew towards the Blackwald forest. Below us I saw my family’s farm and we landed in a field near the house. I dreaded what I might find, but the place was deserted. It looked as though no one had been living there for some time. We’d find no answers here, I realised. I wandered through the empty rooms, seeing in my mind how it had looked when last I’d visited. It would never be the same again. In the room that had been Arrentai’s I found a small wooden box on a shelf. Opening it I saw some carved figures; a bear, a cat, a stag, a sea lion, a bird, a moonkin, and a tree. I remembered them well. We’d played with them as boys, learning what forms a druid could take. When we’d grown too old for toys Arrentai had arranged them on the shelf and as he’d mastered each form he’d placed its figure in the box. I closed the box and reached out to replace it then changed my mind and kept it. It was a memory of happier times; sometimes at the darkest times I needed such reminders.  
I went outside to find Nerissina. She was sitting on a bench, sheltered from the prevailing winds by thick hedges. It was my mother’s favourite place to relax. As I approached I saw a large black raven perched beside her. I thought nothing of it, they’d been common around the area for longer than I could recall.  
“I’m done here,” I said quietly. “There’s nothing here for me now.”  
As I turned to our mounts Nerissina arose and fell into step beside me. To my surprise the raven followed her, fluttering along at her shoulder.  
“New friend?” I asked.  
“An old friend,” she replied. “Gilly was my pet as a child. He must have been living wild in the forest after everyone left.”  
She said no more, taking it for granted that he would join us; and so he did. From then on the raven was never far away, coming and going as he chose, but always returning to her side.  
Nerissina   
Leaving behind the ruins of our home we flew south. Neither we nor our mounts had need of rest and we did not stop until we reached Stormwind. We approached the city from the sea and saw the damage that had been done here. The park area of the city, home mostly to night elves and druids, was gone. All that was left were burnt out ruins; most of the area had fallen into the sea. We flew over the city, seeing the streets full of refugees, the broken statue in the Valley of Heroes, the damaged walls; and landed in the barracks.   
We reported to the commanding officer and at last found out a little more about what had happened. Apparently the renegade former dragon aspect Deathwing had broken free from his prison in the elemental plane of Deepholm and returned to our world, wreaking devastation wherever he went. Besides the damage we had already seen, the port of Auberdine in the Darkshore region of Kalimdor had been destroyed and the Barrens had been split in two by a great chasm.  
Gilneas, we were told, had been over-run by both feral worgen and Forsaken, and many people had been attacked by the worgen and changed. Our king had reluctantly been forced to order total evacuation. Most Gilneans had either moved to Stormwind or, mostly those who’d become worgen, gone to Darnassus at the invitation of the night elves. Genn Greymane moved to live in Stormwind and the land of Gilneas was pretty much abandoned to the Forsaken. It became common knowledge about then how worgen were made and made life even more difficult for me. Now I was treated with even more suspicion.  
Gillaen was not one to give up easily however and whenever he had the time he began to make more enquiries about his family. It turned out that his parents had moved to Stormwind about the time we’d been taken by the Scourge and so had avoided the worst of the trouble. He was pleased to know they were safe but, made the decision not to contact them. They believed he was dead; they did not need to know what he had become.   
For a long time we could learn nothing of Arrentai's fate and feared that he had died. But at last after long weeks we received news. He had remained in Gilneas and fought against the worgen. In the final battle he’d been bitten and had transformed and fled to the wild. Then he’d been captured and returned to sanity. Now he was working for the night elves in Darkshore, helping to rebuild a community destroyed by the cataclysm that had torn so much of our world apart. I still loved him as much as a death knight could love although I knew there could never be any hope of a future for us. Maybe I would go secretly to see him. He wouldn’t know me as I was now; but I wanted to see him just once more.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the orc boys really are that hopeless. Every adventure they have ends in chaos.


	6. Chapter 6

My name is Arrentai Bearheart. I am a druid.  
I’ll not tell you in detail of the fall of Gilneas and how my people were driven out of our ancestral homes by the Forsaken armies that attacked us. You’ll know that story well enough from more skilled storytellers than me.   
This is my story, just my small part in those events, my life. I was born thirty years ago in a tiny village not far from Gilneas, the second son of Taliesin Bearheart and Cara Firethorn. Both my parents were druids from long lines of druids. From childhood my brother and I trained in those abilities. It soon became evident that I was destined to follow in their footsteps. My brother Gillaen to his sorrow was not. Though he tried hard to learn the skills that we must all master he could not find the power within him. Eventually he abandoned his studies, left our home and enlisted as a paladin in the army of our king Genn Greymane. He made a good career for himself, rising through the ranks to a position of some authority.   
The life of a druid was a good one for me. I loved the forests, the open spaces, the close contact with nature, the aloneness. I had few friends but I never felt lonely when I could feel the natural world all about me and draw its energy into me to use the healing spells that were part of my work.   
It was through Gillaen that I met the woman with whom I would fall in love. Her name was Nerissina Moonshade. She was the daughter of a merchant family in Gilneas and like Gillaen had chosen to enlist in the army. Her reason, I later learned, was to escape an arranged marriage. He brought her among a group of friends when he came to visit us on leave. I’m afraid I scarcely remember the others. The moment I was introduced to Nerissina I was smitten. She was beautiful; a slender, fair skinned redhead with a delightful sense of humour and very strong willed. For the whole time she stayed with us we were together and by the end of a week we were lovers. We wandered through the fields, rode out in the hills or simply sat and talked. It was all the same to me so long as she was with me.   
All too soon they had to return to their barracks. Before they left I took her to one side and asked her if she would one day be my wife. She smiled her sweet gentle smile, reached up to touch my face with her strong little hand and said, “One day, when there is peace and we can make a home together. For now we must make the most of what we have.”  
As I gazed into her lovely blue eyes I had no reason to doubt that it would happen. How wrong could I be? A few short months later I found out.  
The worgen have long been a curse on our people. Summoned by Archmage Arugal to aid in our fight against the Scourge they had turned on our people and proved more of a hazard than a help. Now they were steadily increasing in numbers on both sides of the Greymane wall; attacking our farms and villages; killing and taking our people for their own foul purposes. Even our army wasn’t safe from them; frequently being attacked at night as they carried on the war against the Scourge in the Plaguelands and Silverpine forest. Soldiers were being bitten or dragged off into the forests and never seen again. Nobody made the connection then that those who disappeared were usually those who had previously been bitten. Just three months after I met Nerissina Gillaen wrote to tell me that she too had been lost, taken by the worgen.  
Gillaen was the only one who’d known how important Nerissina had been to me. With no one to talk to or to share my grief with I devoted myself to my studies, becoming ever more solitary as the months sped by. Then five months after her disappearance Gillaen again wrote to tell me that she had returned. She had changed though, he said, and she’d told him that she no longer loved me; never wanted to see me again. I couldn’t understand it; I’d thought her love was as enduring as mine. Although it tore my heart to pieces I respected her wishes and stayed away. There were also, he said, several worgen in the army. Apparently they made good soldiers if they had enough self control to co-operate with people. It wasn’t until much later that I had the knowledge to make the connection between those two seemingly disparate pieces of information.  
My parents, growing older and wanting a more peaceful life, moved south to live in Stormwind where we had family. I stayed alone in Gilneas. Through Gillaen’s occasional letters I learned a little of what was happening in the wider world. The Scourge were causing trouble again and several regiments including his were being sent north to deal with them. It was the last time I heard from him. Weeks later we heard that the Scourge had almost wiped out the soldiers sent against them. Worse still; they took the bodies of the dead and turned them into warriors for their own armies. My brother had fallen in battle and was among the missing. It was always the best that they took; race, faction, class made no difference but if a man or woman fell in battle after proving themselves to be an outstanding warrior they were taken to be made into soldiers for the Scourge’s undead army; and paladins had always been the most valiant of fighters. All the worgen in their regiment had died. Only their ferocity had allowed any survivors to escape. I went into the city to find out more. I wish I hadn’t. The names of all those lost was displayed outside the town hall. I stopped to read them. So many men and women, some of whom I had known. There was my brother’s name and lower down... Nerissina! How could fate do this to me? It had torn her away from me once again and this time there could be no returning.   
Without being aware of what I was doing I shapeshifted to my bearform. Rearing up onto my hind legs with an anguished roar I tore at the list of names and the board to which it was pinned with my claws, shredding them both to pieces. I turned, dropping to all fours, and dashed away through the crowds swatting aside anyone who got in my way. I was lucky the guards wouldn’t chance shooting me with so many people about or I might have died that day. I was almost home before I calmed enough to slow to a halt. Shifting back to human I sank to the ground and gave in to my despair.  
In my grief I became ever more withdrawn until I was virtually living the life of a hermit. Two or three years passed and I began to hear rumours of a new kind of warrior that was appearing in the armies of both the Alliance and the Horde. They called them death knights, Knights of the Ebon Blade. Former minions of the Lich King and the Scourge they had somehow found the strength of will to break free of his influence and earn the return of their souls by fighting against him. Although generally viewed with even more antipathy than the worgen they were accepted back into the ranks of their former armies by both King Varian and the Horde leader Garrosh Hellscream as a valuable resource in the battle against the Scourge. I never once dared hope that Gillaen or Nerissina could be among their numbers.  
Meanwhile the worgen depredations became worse. They began invading our capital city and driving out the people. It seemed they could not be beaten so the king called for all able-bodied citizens to help evacuate the city. I volunteered and did my part. I even had the honour to be noticed by the king for my deeds. However the worgen fought viciously and many people fell to their attacks. I was unfortunate enough to be bitten on my arm. The wound was not serious so I bound it up and continued fighting. I didn’t know then that it meant the end of the life that I had always known. Eventually the city was evacuated and those of us who were left were told to report to Lord Crowley in the cathedral. There were so few of us. As the worgen forced their way in we fought back but it seemed so hopeless. I was exhausted and I could feel the poison from the worgen's bite burning through my veins. I scarcely had the strength to cast another protective spell. Another worgen rushed at me and a paladin stepped forward to defend me as I raised my hands to begin casting.  
Suddenly everything went black.  
I came to my senses in a cramped cage. For some moments I did not move, my body ached from the awkward position I was in, slumped in one corner with my back against the bars. But my senses, how heightened they were. I was aware of so much that I would scarcely have noticed before; sound; birdsong, the gentle sighing of the wind in the trees, the chatter of water over the stones of a nearby stream; scent; the fragrance of a few late-flowering plants, fish on the ships of the distant fishery, and closer the body odours of men and women, animals and other less pleasant smells; touch; the bars of my cage pressed against my back, I felt each individual one, the touch of the breeze on my skin, the dampness in the air. I didn’t understand this. I opened my eyes and looked about curiously. Even my vision seemed enhanced. I could see every minute detail, every blemish on the rough iron bars of the cage, every blade of grass, leaf, flower petal. It was incredible. Even when I was transformed into my druid animal forms my senses had never been this acute. I wanted desperately to know what had caused this change.  
All around me were other cages, like the one that held me, most of them holding snarling feral worgen. I could smell their fear, their confusion. Beyond the cages were the derelict seeming buildings of a Gilnean village that seemed vaguely familiar. I lifted my arms to push at the bars; but they weren’t my hands. These were covered in coarse dark hair, the elongated fingers ending in long vicious claws. Light protect me; what had happened to me? Had I become that which we most feared? Was this how worgen multiplied; by turning ordinary men and women into beasts like them. I raised my head and howled wolf-like in my distress before darkness once again took me. The darkness was interspersed with rare moments of lucidity and memories of being forced to swallow foul tasting liquids. Eventually reason returned and I began to wonder what would become of me. Would I have to spend the rest of my life in a cage to keep me from being a danger to my fellow men? Accustomed to roaming freely I didn’t think I could bear that. Death would be more welcome to me than captivity. And I wondered how long had I been like this and what awful things might I have done in the time I could not remember?  
After some time a group of men approached my cage. Four of them were heavily armed guards; the fifth, I recalled, was the royal chemist Krennan Aranas, a man I had helped to rescue not long since. He stopped at a safe distance and studied me. I stared back in silence.  
“So you’re back with us,” he commented. I didn’t try to answer; my throat felt dry and sore. Instead I snarled beastlike at him.   
“Bring him,” he ordered the guards. One of them pushed a spear through the bars, forcing me back, while a second kept his gun levelled at my head. The others unlocked the cage, bound me with chains and dragged me out to the stocks in the nearby village square. Once they had me secure they poured more of their foul drink down my throat. I couldn’t swallow quickly enough and began to choke.  
“No more,” I gasped; my voice hoarse, deeper, rougher than it had been before.  
“Do you remember who you are?” Krennan asked. For a moment I hesitated as I collected my thoughts.  
“I am Arrentai Bearheart, son of Taliesin Bearheart and Cara Firethorn.”   
“Good. Your memories are returning. These chemicals we’ve been dosing you with have enabled you to regain control over your body. They’re not a cure, you must continue to take them, but it does mean you can be let out to get on with your life.”  
“What kind of life can I have looking like this?” I demanded as the guards set about freeing me from my chains.  
“I can’t go back to my family.”  
“You can still serve the king. The Forsaken have taken advantage of our troubles with the worgen and are attacking our borders. We need every man we can get, no matter what he looks like, to help defend us.”  
I shrugged. “Maybe.”   
At that point I didn’t feel much loyalty to the king. I felt that he had betrayed the trust of his people by keeping the truth about the worgen secret and leaving us vulnerable to their attacks. It was in his service that my life as I had known it had been destroyed. Why should I give him more of myself?  
“Well; when you make your mind up speak to someone at the town hall.”   
For a few days I just hung around the village doing very little, getting used to my new body, learning what I could do. I found that I still had my druid abilities; I could even shapeshift but I couldn’t master the worgen’s reputed ability to change back to my human form. Maybe I never would. One of the guards had been in the cathedral in that last hopeless battle against the worgen. He told me what had happened to me and so many others. I’d been part way through casting that last spell when I’d changed without warning. Before anyone could stop me I’d turned on the paladin defending me and ripped his throat out. I’d joined with the worgen and fled with them into the forests. Weeks later I’d been captured by a hunting party when someone recognised the shredded remains of the Gilnean tabard that I still wore. I had no memory of that time, mercifully; I don’t think I could have borne the agony of knowing what I’d done.  
At last I made my mind up. I was still a powerful druid and as such I could be useful in the war against the Forsaken and maybe atone in some small way for my sins. I headed to the town hall, one of the few intact buildings in the village. It was only then that I saw my reflection for the first time as I passed an unbroken window. It was quite a shock. Gone was the face I knew, replaced by the long muzzle and fangs of a wolf. My blonde braids and neatly trimmed beard had become a shaggy dark mane. I turned away sadly; I didn’t know if I would ever get used to my new appearance.  
Over the following weeks I was given many varied things to do; helping out people, looking for things that were lost, fighting against the Forsaken. And all the while the area was rocked by earthquakes. The land became increasingly unstable until it began to crumble into the sea. We had to leave Duskhaven village before we too were swallowed up. We moved eastwards to Stormglen, still fighting the endless hordes of Forsaken. It was then I learned that there might be more help for my condition. The night elf druids had a retreat deep in the forest of the Blackwald. In the heart of Tal’Doren were three magical wells. If I drank from each of these wells I would regain complete control and would never again have to fear the beast within me. I swore then that I would earn the right to ask that help, no matter what it took.  
While we worked and fought for our survival more victims of the worgen’s curse were brought in to Stormglen and to others of our refuges. All were treated as I’d been with Krennan’s foul potions. Many of them eventually recovered but some did not. Once I asked what would happen to them. They would not be harmed I was told but would be taken to a safe and secure place where they could harm no-one. That reassured me, for who knew when a worgen that could not be treated might be somebody’s friend or relation. I was fortunate in that I knew my parents were safe, but so many in the countryside around us were still at risk.  
One day as I was passing the cages one particular worgen caught my attention, a young female who’d been brought in only the previous day so she’d only had one dose so far. Unlike most of the others she wasn’t trying to break the bars of her cage. Instead she was crouched in one corner looking alertly around. As I watched her I was aware of Krennan coming up behind me. “She’s canny, that one,” he said. “She looks as though she knows what’s happening.”  
At the sound of his voice she turned her head to stare at him and gave a short snarl.  
“I’d say her treatment will be successful.”   
“Good.” For some reason it seemed important to me that she recovered.   
I watched her treatment closely, making a point of being present when she was given her doses. If Krennan wondered why he never asked me. If he had I couldn’t have told him. It was just a vague feeling. My patience was rewarded within a week. I stood back watching as she was compelled to drink the liquid. For some moments nothing happened then she turned to glare at Krennan. “Are you trying to poison me?” she demanded.  
The old man smiled.”Welcome back,” he said. “Who are you?”  
“I’m Vanesta,” she said calmly. “Who are you?”  
I knew that name. Vanesta Allaisson had been a childhood friend. Gillaen and I had spent all our free time running wild through the woods with Vanesta and her brother. Of course in those days there’d been no worgen to worry about so close to home. I strode forward and she flinched, maybe thinking I was about to attack her.  
“Vanesta,” I said gently, “don’t be afraid of me. I’m Arrentai.”  
“No! Stay away from me. You’re a worgen.”   
“So are you now. I was bitten by a worgen while we were evacuating Gilneas and I changed. I guess the same happened to you.”  
“They came to our farm,” she said sadly. “They killed my parents and Tobi; and left me for dead. I stayed there alone, and then... I don’t remember what happened after that.”  
“That’s quite normal,” Krennan said gently. “Nobody remembers. I believe it’s a defence mechanism to protect your sanity. Most people couldn’t cope with knowing what they’d done.”  
While we were talking the guards had removed her chains and moved away.  
Krennan smiled at us.  
“I’ll leave you to explain things,” he said to me before walking away to deal with his next patient. I reached out to take Vanesta’s hands; not an easy thing when you have razor sharp claws. I led her to the room that I had chosen as my refuge and I explained everything to her. Unlike me she had no hesitation in making a decision about her future; she joined us in working towards the survival of our people.  
Not long after that we were sent to Tal’Doren to work with the night elves and we ended up helping them to retrieve something called the Scythe of Elune from a group of Forsaken at their hideout in the Blackwald. Our reward for that was to be allowed to take part in the ritual that would bring balance to our natures. We drank from each well in turn while the druids spoke the invocations. It was simple yet we could feel the power involved. I could feel a control over my body that I hadn’t felt since I became a worgen. I searched deep within myself until I found that which made me human and I boosted it until it filled me. Then I shapeshifted. Slowly I raised my hands in front of my eyes; they were my own hands once again not the wolf’s claws that I hated so much. I touched my face; it was smooth apart from the beard. I was human again. Sure, I knew I was still a worgen; that could never change but at least I could wear the form that was truly myself. I was to find out later that I would always have to be worgen when I went into battle; the adrenalin triggered a physical change that I could not control, but my mind was still my own. I could live with that; in a way it was an advantage for worgen are much stronger than humans.  
I turned to Vanesta and smiled.  
“Easy,” I said. “Let me teach you how.”   
It took her longer to learn. Not being a druid she had never learned to shapeshift whereas I’d been doing so since I was a child. Eventually though she got the hang of it and she stood before me, a beautiful woman once again. I bent and gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead.  
“See. Nothing to it.”  
Lord Crowley was at Tal’Doren, conferring with the druids and he took time to speak to us. He had more tasks for us and the other recovered worgen. We found ourselves going from place to place gradually getting closer to Gilneas city. The Forsaken were overrunning the city and the king wanted them out. We gathered together in a fighting force and battled our way in. The battle seemed to be going our way and we had their leader Sylvanas Windrunner cornered. She tried to kill the king but his son Liam died instead, defending him. She fled and a group of us pursued her to the cathedral. I was beginning to hate that place; for a so-called sanctuary a lot of bad stuff was happening there. What we heard there was even worse; Sylvanas was planning to release a plague amongst the people and we had no way to stop her.   
When we reported back to the king he decided that we had to get all our people out of the city. A few of us created a diversion while everyone else, Vanesta among them, escaped through a secret passage. By the time we made it through they were well away. The king was with us, bringing his son’s body. With his concern for his people he hadn’t had time to grieve. Out of respect for him we took time to arrange a burial in the graveyard at the end of the tunnel.  
By the time we fought our way to the harbour the others were gone. The Horde were everywhere; was there no end to them? They were like a plague of rats. I was so angry, so mad with everyone that I was constantly in worgen form. I just wanted to get out of there; to find somewhere away from all the fighting. I wasn’t a natural fighter; druids usually follow a more peaceful way of life and I had had enough. There was a ship waiting to take us away but the king would not leave until he was sure that there was no one left. So we waited and fought on. I hated this rage I constantly felt; hated the people who caused it.  
Eventually no more stragglers arrived. We were given the order to embark. The last of our equipment was loaded, the war machines that were too large to take were disabled and we boarded the ship. I hadn’t even bothered to ask where we were going. It was enough for me that we were leaving behind the scenes of battle. The crew of the ship were night elves, not the most talkative of people. In time though, someone told me that we were headed for Teldrassil. The night elves had offered us sanctuary and a new home with them. For the most part the voyage was peaceful and I was able to rediscover my inner calm and return to the form that I favoured. I had plenty of time to think about the life that awaited me. I only wished that my beloved Nerissina could have been there to share it with me.  
Teldrassil was everything they promised; a peaceful, beautiful place with welcoming people. They had prepared a home for us, a great hollow tree surrounded by gardens and freely wandering creatures. Someone with a sense of humour had named it the Howling Oak. It should have been paradise but Nerissina wasn’t there. I tried to make a new life for myself. I continued my studies; there was so much I still had to learn. But some days I couldn’t see the point. I was too restless to settle to this new life and they didn’t need another druid.  
In time I moved to Darkshore where I was able to be of use rebuilding what had been destroyed in the cataclysm that had shaken our world. To earn a living I learned the trade of leatherworking. There were plenty of beasts to provide skins and I found that being a worgen made skinning easy. It’s the claws; they make great skinning knives and you don’t have to worry about sharpening them.   
After some weeks the night elf sentinel in command of the Darkshore detachment asked me if I could take some messages to Stormwind and Ironforge for her. She couldn’t spare anyone else and she could trust me to complete the errand. It was a long time since anyone had said that to me; my appearance doesn’t usually inspire trust these days. Of course I agreed. I was curious to see the capital and maybe I would be able to see my parents as well. So loaded with parcels of letters and copious instructions I set off.  
I flew first by gryphon to Rut'theran village, and from there caught the ship to Stormwind. I had plenty of time on the voyage to relax and think about things. My family occupied a lot of my thoughts. I’d had no contact with my parents since they left Gilneas; I didn’t even know if they knew about the manner of Gillaen’s death, or that I’d been lost to the worgen. I was uncertain too whether I should meet them as I was now. How would they cope with learning that I was essentially the same as our enemies?  
When the ship arrived at Stormwind I soon learned what people generally thought of us. Even when we wore human form people still didn’t like worgen. The king had accepted us into the Alliance but that didn’t mean his people were willing to do the same. From the moment I stepped ashore I was treated with suspicion.  
I asked directions of a guard and headed for the barracks. In the city I could see that here too the cataclysm had wrought destruction. The area they called the Park had largely fallen into the sea and was little more than burnt rubble. As I walked through the busy streets I could feel the antipathy of the citizens and I had to struggle to keep my own feelings under control. One moment’s loss of control and I could so easily change and become what they feared so much.  
When I reached the barracks of course I was challenged to identify myself. Fortunately the sentinel’s name and the papers she had given me were sufficient to get me in. I was taken to a senior officer to whom I handed the papers addressed to his commanding officer. This man, apparently, didn’t have a problem with worgen, and he was obviously bored with his administrative duties for he invited me to join him for lunch. He took me to an inn in the Old Town area of the city whose customers seemed to be mostly military personnel. As we ate he asked me about my work in Darkshore. It turned out he had family there that he hadn’t heard from since the cataclysm and he was anxious for news about them. As it happened I knew the people, a fisherman and his family from Auberdine. Although they’d lost their home they were all safe so I was able to reassure him. I even offered to take any messages for him; I could collect them before I left on the boat.  
As he drank more he became more talkative and I learned that he had served in the same regiment as Gillaen and Nerissina. I encouraged him to talk about my brother and he was happy to do so. According to my companion Gillaen had been well-liked. He had fought valiantly in his last battle killing a large number of Scourge soldiers before falling himself. More than one survivor owed their lives to him. I didn’t ask about Nerissina; I wasn’t ready to hear how she’d met her death.  
It was well into the afternoon before we left the inn. I was still sober; I still had errands to do; but my companion was rather less so. I hoped he made it safely back to the barracks and didn’t end up in the canal.  
I next had messages to deliver to the keep. That was quicker; I simply left them with the officer in charge of the watch saying that I would return next day to see if there were any replies.  
My last errand was to deliver a package to Ironforge. I’d been told that the quickest way to get there was to use the Deeprun tram. Asking directions of a guard I headed for the Dwarven quarter and the entrance to the tram’s tunnel. I wasn’t sure I liked it down there. For someone who spent most of his time outdoors the tunnels seemed very claustrophobic. I hoped the journey wouldn’t take too long. When the tram reached Ironforge I hurried out of the tunnel from the tramway only to find I was still underground. Nobody had bothered to tell me that the dwarves’ city was subterranean. Such a life wasn’t natural to me; I didn’t like it at all. The place was big enough but there was no natural light; everything was lit by torches. I hurried to make my delivery so I could get out of there as soon as possible. They had nothing for me to take back so I left right away. I was glad to get back to Stormwind and out into the open air.  
By then it was late in the evening and I needed to find somewhere to spend the night. I could have stayed at the inn where I’d had lunch but it was noisy and crowded with off-duty soldiers. So I just bought something to eat and headed towards the gates of the city. I’d heard that Elwynn Forest that surrounded the city was a beautiful and restful place. Passing out under the scorched and damaged turrets atop the main wall and over a bridge lined with statues, one of which was broken away, I went out into the forest. I wandered in the cool shade becoming more at one with nature. Stopping out of sight of the walls I shapeshifted; not into worgen form; but into druid cat form. With the added speed it gave me I ran, covering miles and a great deal of the forest, becoming more at peace with myself. As it grew dark I slowed and sought a sheltered place to spend the night. Still in cat form I slept, curled in a mossy hollow, until sunrise.  
I shifted back to human form and returned to the city. After buying breakfast from a canal-side shop I headed back to the barracks to collect any deliveries from there. There was no sign of the officer I’d spoken to the previous day but he’d left a letter and a parcel for me to take. He was ill I was told. That amused me; if he’d drunk as much later in the day as he did for lunch he probably had one hell of a hangover. Leaving the barracks I went to the keep to see if they had any deliveries. Expecting to be given them at the door I was told to go in as the king wanted to see me. It turned out he wanted first hand information on how things were going in Darkshore as they hadn’t seen anyone from there for a while. I told him what I could and answered his questions; then I left and headed out into the city. I hadn’t seen much of it the day before and like any visitor I wanted to do some sight-seeing. I wandered around the city, exploring, filling in time until my ship was due to depart. I’d decided not to contact my parents; if they believed I was dead maybe that was better than knowing what I’d become.   
Eventually I found myself in cathedral square. For a few minutes I watched the children from the nearby orphanage playing in the gardens. They were so carefree, as I remembered once being. On impulse I mounted the steps of the cathedral and went inside, pulling the hood of my cloak up to conceal my face. Almost deserted, the building was peaceful and full of the light that gave it its name. I could hear gentle voices in some of the side rooms but the main aisle was empty. I strode forward toward the altar, stopped and stood there bathed in the warmth of the light that streamed through the crystal clear windows. Raising my face to the light I closed my eyes and prayed for my loved ones; for my parents that they would forget the pain of losing us and learn to live in peace; for Gillaen and Nerissina that they would be spared the torment of an eternity of service to the Lich King. Lastly I prayed that I would have the strength to continue to lead my life serving others and not to give way to my bestial half.  
The sound of the hourly bell reminded me that time was passing and I should head to the harbour. Making sure my hood was in place I left the cathedral. My path would take me near to my parents' home and I did not want them to see and recognize me. I boarded the ship and stood on deck watching as the city slipped away behind us. I doubted that I would return. I would return to Darkshore and live in the wild places that best suited my nature. Once the ship arrived in Rut’theran I handed over all my deliveries and returned to my solitary life.  
For weeks my life went on as before. There was so much to do. The cataclysm; whatever had caused it I didn’t want to know; had wrought havoc in Darkshore. The land was torn apart, villages wrecked, people homeless and injured, and off course opportunistic troublemakers had moved in. All this had to be dealt with. My druid healing abilities were in demand; and it turned out that people in need were usually happy enough to accept the help of a worgen. When I needed some time alone I’d take myself off on a hunting trip. There were a lot of bears in Darkshore. Usually they stayed away from people but many of them had been infected by some sort of corruption that made them unusually savage. To keep the area safe they needed to be destroyed. That was a job that I and any hunters passing through Lor’danel could do. I skinned them and used the leather to make good strong clothing. A little bit of enchantment and they were as tough as armour. I had reason to be thankful for that.  
One day I felt more than usually restless. Only the absolute freedom of the wild would calm me. Stowing my kit in a safe place I shifted into bear form and ambled off into the mountains. Not the brightest idea, I know, but I didn’t always think before I acted. Still it was peaceful enough at first. Feeling hungry I went down to the river to catch a fish. I’d just hooked out a beauty when the arrow hit me; left shoulder, just above my heart. Only the toughness of my jerkin stopped it going all the way. With a howl of pain I fell, forcing a shift back to worgen as I passed out. It was all that saved my life.  
When I came to my senses I could smell cooking fish. I lay unmoving and assessed the situation. My shoulder felt stiff but not overly painful. The arrow was gone and it had been bandaged. I could hear movements and the crackle of a fire close by. I guess whoever it was didn’t mean me any harm for I wasn’t bound in any way. I moved slightly and drew their attention. The face that appeared in my line of vision was that of a young night elf with white-blonde hair. She smiled, obviously untroubled by my bestial appearance.   
“Hello,” she said. “How do you feel?”  
I reassured her that I was fine. Sitting up I flexed my shoulder. The stiffness was not enough to cause me a problem although it might make running in animal form difficult until it healed. She handed me a plate of fish and vegetables then sat nearby with her own food. I thanked her and she grinned.   
“Least I could do as you caught it.”  
We ate in silence; then she put her plate aside and looked at me.  
“You know you were lucky you changed as you fell,” she said. “I thought you were a bear and I’d have finished you off.”  
I grunted vaguely. There wasn’t really much I could say to that.  
“What on earth possessed you to choose bear form here?”  
“Momentary stupidity or a death wish. You decide,” I replied.  
We talked for a while. I learned that her name was Maelinastra Silverleaf. She had been passing through Lor’danel on her way to Ashenvale and had decided to offer her help here for a while. Being a hunter, she’d been sent out to do her bit with the ongoing bear problem. I told her a bit about myself, but made no mention of Nerissina; that pain was still too raw to share. Because we got on well we decided to spend a few days hunting bear together. To give my shoulder a chance to heal she and her cat did the hunting and I dealt with the skinning. We only headed back to town when we couldn’t carry any more. As Maelinastra would be moving on I offered to buy her skins off her. She agreed and named a price that I was sure was less than their real value, but she wouldn’t accept more. We left the skins and my kit at my workshop and then I went to see her off at the flight deck.  
I stood watching as she disappeared into the distance on a gryphon then turned to walk away. I became aware of muttering voices nearby and turned to look at the speakers. A pair of gnomes who’d just dismounted from their ride were eyeing me suspiciously. I realised that I was still in worgen form as I’d been all the time with Maelinastra. Out of sheer annoyance with the silly creatures I snarled menacingly at them, shifted to human and strolled away casually as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t my fault they felt intimidated by me; I hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Unfortunately a lot of people these days seemed to have a lot of trouble coping with the concept of live and let live.


	7. Chapter 7

Arrentai   
About a month or so after this I came back from a trip to the southern end of Darkshore to be greeted by Gorbold Steelhand, the dwarf who usually bought my goods off me. He normally hangs around outside the inn where he can see everyone who comes and goes. Anyway he called me over before I’d even had a chance to visit my workshop with my latest haul.  
“There’re two death knights in town,” he blurted out without so much as a “hello, how are you?”  
“Word is; they’re looking for you.”  
My blood ran cold; if anyone’s looking for me it usually means trouble. And death knights sounded like big trouble.   
“Where are they?”  
“In the inn, taking advantage of Kyteran‘s hospitality.”  
I dumped the bundle of skins at his feet.  
“Mind these for me. And don’t sell them.”  
I headed into the inn, stopping at the counter to buy a bottle of strong wine. I had a feeling I was going to need it.  
“If they’re friends of yours, get them out of here,” Kyteran said, indicating the pair who sat in a corner near the stairs. “They are not good for business.”  
I grimaced. When I first arrived in Darkshore she’d said the same about me. Now she was more than happy to take my money no matter what I looked like.  
I looked around. The inn was empty apart from staff and the healers who worked in the upstairs rooms.  
Taking my bottle I strolled across to them and stopped at a safe distance. Even as a worgen this pair made me feel powerless. They stood up and I swallowed nervously. Both clad in dark plate armour with helmets that mostly covered their faces they were an intimidating pair. One was a tall solidly built human, bearded and pale skinned; his companion, equally tall, a slender worgen female.  
“I hear you’re looking for me,” I said.  
“Arrentai Bearheart?” the human asked and I nodded.  
“Do you know how difficult you were to find?” he demanded reaching up to remove his helmet. I couldn’t believe my eyes.  
“Gillaen!”  
He was older of course and battle-scarred and his eyes bore the blank glow of fel magic associated with all members of the Scourge. But he was unmistakably my brother. I reached behind me and grabbed a chair to sit down. I felt as though my legs wouldn’t hold me up.   
“You look as though you need a drink,” Gillaen said. I looked down at the bottle still in my hand, uncorked it with a claw and took a large gulp. Then I shifted to human.  
“Neat trick,” Gillaen commented sitting down again. He glanced at the worgen.”Can you do that too or is it just a druid thing?”   
She too had removed her helmet and sat down.  
“I can do it,” she said in a husky voice. “It’s a worgen thing too. I just haven’t seen much point in doing so. I have to fight in this form; it’s easier to keep it.” She sounded sad. I could understand that feeling. It wasn’t easy coming to terms with the change.  
It was just as well I was sitting down with the surprise I got then. Her image blurred as she began to shapeshift to human form. I stared in disbelief, unable to say a word. Against all the odds Nerissina too had escaped the clutches of the Lich King. Apart from the eyes she looked just as I remembered her. So many things became clear to me now. When Gillaen had written to tell me that Nerissina had changed and that there were worgen in the army this is what he meant. Obviously under orders not to talk about it outside of the army he had done his best to tell me but I’d been too slow witted to understand.  
She didn’t speak; just sat there watching me; waiting to see how I would react. Stunned, I took a large swallow of my wine. Straight from the bottle. Then I made the only decision I could, the only one I wanted to make. Still feeling slightly disoriented I stood, placing the bottle on the table, and took a step towards her holding out my hands. At once she was on her feet and in my arms. I held her close, never wanting to let her go again.  
“I thought I’d never see you again; that you were dead,” I said, realising as I spoke how stupid that sounded.  
“I am dead,” she said softly. “But I’m still Nerissina.” But was she? I couldn’t help wondering.  
“I’m so glad to see you; both of you.”  
I really didn’t know what to say. Of course I was delighted to see them both, but I didn’t see how things could be the same as they were before; how I wanted them to be. Inevitably our relationship would change because Nerissina had changed, I had changed; and selfishly I wanted things as they were before. Fortunately Gillaen realised how awkward we both felt and he began talking about some totally random thing, but it was enough to diffuse the situation.  
So there we sat, drinking and talking until late into the evening. At one point Kyteran brought us plates of food.  
“With the amount you’ve been drinking you need it,” she commented wryly. She was feeling happier now. Because we all looked human and no longer a threat her customers had come back and she was busy again.  
They told me some of what they had been through; but like me they found some things were better left unsaid. After being raised from the dead into the Lich King’s army they had done some really bad things of which they wouldn’t talk. Their redemption had come at Light’s Hope Chapel. Under the command of their leader Darion Mograine they had been ordered to attack the place. Unable to defeat its defenders despite vastly superior numbers, they had stopped fighting and were awaiting further orders when Highlord Tirion Fordring had arrived and talked with Mograine. They’d seen what seemed to be the ghost of his father talking with him as well. What he’d said obviously had a profound effect on him because when the Lich King arrived and ordered Mograine to kill Fordring he turned on his master instead. It was enough to break his malign hold on every Death Knight there. They regained their memories and their souls and became again what they had been before they died. Under Mograine’s leadership they had taken control of the Scourge’s Ebon Hold and made it their headquarters. From there the Knights of the Ebon Blade, as they were now more properly known, were sent out to complete their redemption by rejoining their former armies.  
It was a terrible tale; what they had been through was much worse than what I’d suffered. And yet they were stronger, more focussed than I was. They were working hard to atone for their crimes whereas I was just drifting from one thing to another.   
It was late when we finally decided we needed to sleep. At least I did; Gillaen and Nerissina still looked fresh and wide awake. Gillaen took a room in the inn. Nerissina and I wanted to be together so I took her back to my workshop. I only had a mattress to sleep on; I didn’t spend much time there so it was all I needed; but we could be alone there. I spent the night with her in my arms, nothing more; but it was more than we’d had for too long. And we talked; alone it was easier; we could reveal feelings that were too private for anyone else to hear.  
We were awoken the next morning by the sound of someone rapping on the door. Untangling myself from both Nerissina and the bedclothes I got to my feet, crossed the room and opened the door. I stared blearily at Gorbold who stood there with my bundle of skins at his feet.  
“What?” I demanded grumpily. I was never at my best in the morning if I’d been drinking the night before.  
“I don’t provide warehouse facilities,” he said facetiously. “Nor do I usually make deliveries. When you asked me to mind these last night I thought you’d be coming back for them later.”  
“Sorry,” I replied, “I had other things on my mind.”  
“So I see.” He glanced past me to where Nerissina was sitting on the mattress wearing only her undergarments. She was respectable enough but he put two and two together and reached completely the wrong conclusion. I grabbed the bundle, thanked him brusquely and pushed the door shut in his face. I leaned back against it and groaned. Nerissina laughed.  
“It’s not funny,” I said, “He’s an inveterate gossip. I guarantee by nightfall the whole town’s going to know that the crazy worgen has bedded the death knight. He never lets truth get in the way of a good story.”  
“We could always make it truth,” she suggested. “It was once before.”   
“We’ve changed since then.”  
“Yes. I’m dead and we’re both wolves. Could be interesting.”  
I smiled as I hefted the bundle onto a pile of skins already waiting for my attention. I didn’t know if she was serious or not, but now was not the time to find out.  
“Let’s go join Gillaen for breakfast,” I suggested retrieving my clothes and dressing.  
Nerissina sat watching me.  
“I told you once that I would marry you when there was peace. I have learned since that life is too uncertain to make long term plans. I’ve cheated death and damnation once. I may not be so lucky again. I want to know the happiness you offered me. If it’s even possible.”  
I crouched beside her and gently touched her cheek with one finger.  
“We’ll talk of this later,” I promised, but to be honest I couldn’t see how it could work.  
She left her armour off and took a gown from her bag to wear. As we walked to the inn I could sense people watching us; but this was different. They weren’t seeing the beast they feared. Instead they were seeing a man with a beautiful woman at his side. Gillaen was already seated at the same table we had shared last night, with a selection of dishes in front of him.  
“So you’re up at last,” he said with a grin as we sat down. I glared at him; I didn’t appreciate his innuendo. Between him and the gossip I’d have no reputation left. And I’d worked hard to earn that reputation. It wasn’t easy when you looked, as I did half the time, like a creature from a child’s nightmare. As we ate we talked more. They had only a week of leave before they had to return to Stormwind, Gillaen told me. So little time to get to know Nerissina over again.  
That first day I took them around Lor’danel and a way down the coast to show them the work we’d been doing. Gillaen took time to talk to the sentinels and decided to spend his time helping deal with the Horde camped out to the north. My brother had truly found his calling in the army. Although he could no longer call himself a paladin after what he’d been through, yet once again he fought for the Light; and found comfort in it.  
Before they arrived I’d been helping the refugees from the town of Auberdine. Once a thriving port it had been destroyed by the cataclysm and we were helping people salvage their belongings and deal with an outbreak of elementals that were causing trouble in the area. Just the sort of work that a druid was suited to. Nerissina chose to accompany me, so we could spend our time together. Once the people could see past her being a death knight she got on well with them and was able to do a lot of good. We could have stayed at the camp overnight but we chose to return to Lor’danel each night. It gave us a chance to meet up with Gillaen and have some privacy.  
It turned out that Nerissina was serious about still wanting to marry me. We went and spoke to a priest who was staying in town to ask his advice. He was quite adamant; someone who was officially dead or undead couldn’t marry. The legality of it didn’t bother us; what was important to us was the symbolism of the ceremony. With that proviso, and a generous donation, he was happy to oblige us with a blessing so in our eyes at least if not those of the law we were as good as married.  
Sadly it was not so easy to resume our previous closeness. Nerissina tried her best but there was no avoiding the fact that something was missing. That vital essence; her passion for life; that had made her the woman I’d loved before; it was gone. Lost with her soul at the hands of the Scourge it could never be regained. Although she clearly still loved me, her words proved that; she found it impossible now to feel the physical side of that love in the same way. I did my best to reassure her that it didn’t matter; but deep in my heart I knew it did and in time what we had would not be enough. Also, I was all too aware that people would frown on our relationship. Where I saw the woman I had always loved, they would be seeing the undead monster that was a death knight.  
The thing that was most disturbing was the scar from the wound that had killed her. Just below her breast it was a wide jagged scar where a scourge blade had been driven up under her ribs and into her heart. I soon learned not to notice it and our time together was as perfect as I could make it.  
Unfortunately it was also too short. The week was over too soon and they had to leave. They were travelling by boat from Teldrassil so they needed to fly there first. I hadn’t been back for a while so I decided to go that far with them. We landed at Rut’theran village a while before the ship was due to dock. Gillaen, never one to exert himself unnecessarily found a comfortable spot to rest in while Nerissina and I wandered along the water’s edge to have a few last moments together. She was wearing her armour but had left the helmet with Gillaen so I could see her face. We found a spot where we were hidden from sight and I took her in my arms.  
“I know you have to go,” I said, “but I wish it wasn’t so. We’ve lost so much time that I don’t want to lose any more.”  
“You could come with us.”  
“I know. But what would I do on a battlefield? I’m not much use as a fighter. I don’t like to hurt people. No. I’m better off staying here where I can be of use. And you’ll know where to find me next time you have some leave.”  
We could see the boat arriving then so we kissed briefly and made our way back to Gillaen. He handed Nerissina her helmet then turned to me.  
“Take care of yourself, little brother,” he said with a quick embrace.  
“You take care too, “I replied. “And look after her for me. I don’t want to lose her again.”  
I watched as they went on board and remained until the boat pulled away from the dock and disappeared into the mist. I was alone again, but I wasn’t lonely because I’d found what I most needed. Turning, I walked up the hill towards the portal that led to the top of Teldrassil. I needed information and I figured the best place to get it was at the Howling Oak. I’d heard rumours that the worgen transformations had been going on a lot longer than the king or his officials had let on so someone should have some answers for me.  
Strolling through Darnassus I visited the bank to make a deposit. I was getting a nice sum there. My leather goods fetched a good price and I didn’t need much so I saved my profits. Maybe one day I’d have enough to make a good home for Nerissina; assuming we both made it through these cursed never ending wars.  
When I reached the Howling Oak I found it wasn’t going to be easy to get the answers I needed. I’d already known that the king had gone to Stormwind to live at Varian’s court. It turned out that most of his courtiers and anyone of any importance had gone with him. Most of the Gilneans living in the Howling Oak were refugees, and the majority of those worgen. Those who had escaped the curse and remained human had followed the king’s example and found homes in the wider world. Although rumour had long had it that Greymane was himself a worgen. If that was so I wondered how he kept it hidden from his new allies; or was he so arrogant that he didn’t bother to try.   
Chatting to some of the refugees I came to the conclusion that like me no one had ever seen a worgen child. Those Gilneans that I knew or suspected to be worgen, such as Darius Crowley or the king had human children. Maybe Gilnean children were free of the curse unless they were actually bitten. I hoped that was so. I didn’t want any child of mine to go through what I had suffered. Mind you, I might be wasting my time. I didn’t know if death knights could have children. Having been dead might cause difficulties there. In fact I didn’t really know how alive they were now. Gillaen and Nerissina certainly looked and felt alive. They didn’t look like reanimated corpses like the Forsaken did. I doubted anyone would have an answer to that. Maybe Krennan Aranas might have an idea but pinning him down long enough to hold a conversation could be tricky. Although he lived in Darnassus he was always disappearing off to other places. Maybe Nerissina and I were the ones who’d find out. I guess only time would tell.  
Gillaen   
After the worst of the damage from the cataclysm was cleared up we were sent back to Northrend to rejoin our regiment. We finally made it to Wintergarde Keep but didn’t stay there long. The Horde had been attacking the lumber camps and settlements in Grizzly Hills and we were sent to help out. The orcs had adopted guerrilla tactics, making quick attacks, slaughtering everyone and staying just long enough to take the supplies and stock they wanted. All too often we were too late to stop them. We were left to clear up, to bury the dead and try to track down the killers. It was demoralising work and inevitably it began to tell on us.  
Things came to a head after an attack on a farm not far from Amberpine Lodge, where we were based. We’d got to know the family there quite well. I believe they were related in some way to Lieutenant Dumont, the senior officer there. Anyhow Jacob Armitage and his son Ross often visited the lodge, occasionally accompanied by their wives, Martha and Rachel, and Jacob’s grandchildren. So when we had a report of orcs in the area I took out a patrol to investigate.  
Nerissina   
It was too quiet as we approached the farm. Normally we could hear the livestock, the children, the chatter of the workers. Today there was nothing. Only silence. Even the wild birds had stopped singing. I paused; Gillaen beside me stopped too; and I scented the air. I knew at once we were too late; knew what we would find.  
“Blood,” I whispered. “Too much blood.”  
“Tell me!” Gillaen halted the patrol with a hand signal.  
“The orcs have been here. Their scent is fresh, still close.”  
Quickly Gillaen organised the patrol to spread out to check and secure the wider area while we checked the buildings. We found Jacob and Ross in the barn, both dead. They hadn’t stood a chance against the savagery of the orcs. Martha was in her kitchen; she’d been baking when she died.  
“The children!” I said. “Where are the children?”  
I pushed Gillaen aside and headed up the stairs. Rachel’s body lay in the door to one of the rooms; she’d died trying to protect her children. I hesitated, afraid to go through the door, but I had to know. For long moments I stared in shock at those small murdered infants huddled together on the bed. Long forgotten memories thrust unbidden into my mind.  
“No!” I whispered in anguish. “My baby, they took my baby!”  
I turned, almost collided with Gillaen, who’d followed me up the stairs, and dashed out of the house. Half blinded by tears I had no idea where I was going. I stumbled on the rough ground, looked up and realised I’d run into the orc raiders. I didn’t even have time to draw my sword before a blow knocked me unconscious.  
Gillaen   
As soon as Nerissina told me she scented blood I knew we wouldn’t find any survivors. But even I wasn’t prepared for the bloody massacre we found. These people had been friends; I felt we’d failed them, not being able to save them. No wonder Nerissina was so distraught. I couldn’t hear clearly what she’d said, something about a child, but I’d seen the look on her face as she ran outside, throwing caution to the winds. She was fortunate that some of the patrol saw the orcs attack her and were able to drive them off and save her.  
We returned to Amberpine and I made my report. Dumont sent out troops to bury the family and hunt down the orcs. Nerissina was treated for her injuries and I thought that would be the end of it. Far from it. Although Nerissina’s physical injuries healed quickly her mental state was another matter. She remained depressed and uncommunicative. There was no way I was taking her out with the patrol like that; she’d be too much of a liability. In the end I got permission to take her back to Stormwind and sent a message to Arrentai. Maybe my brother could get through to Nerissina, I couldn’t. He arrived in the city just days after we did.  
Arrentai   
Gillaen had promised to keep me up to date with what they were doing; and for a while his news was of the battles they’d fought and the places they’d been. They’d been all over Azeroth, including most recently Northrend, and had even been as far as Outland – the shattered remains of the Draenei’s former home. I never expected the urgent message I got just weeks later. A sentinel came looking for me to make sure I got it quickly. As I read the terse message summoning me to Stormwind I had no idea what it was about. I was so worried that I paid good money for a mage portal directly to Stormwind. I hurried straight to the barracks and asked for Gillaen.  
My brother took one look at my face and reassured me that it wasn’t as bad as I obviously thought. Nerissina had been injured, but not seriously. It was the events beforehand and after that had concerned Gillaen enough to send his message. They’d been in Northrend trying to deal with orcs raiding settlements and farms. They’d gone into a house and found an entire family that had been slaughtered. Nerissina had looked at the dead children, muttered something about a child under her breath and run out straight into a group of orcs. She’d been injured before he or their companions had been able to react. They’d got out of there with no more casualties and she was recovering from her wound but she refused to talk about what had upset her.  
“I just don’t understand it,” Gillaen told me. “She doesn’t usually let anything get to her. She’s always seemed so tough. I hoped you could get through to her.”  
He led me to the building where the female death knights had their quarters. In human form Nerissina lay on her bunk, unmoving, oblivious to everything going on round her. She didn’t even seem to notice me. Ignoring the onlookers I bent to kiss her.  
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked gently.  
She turned her head to look at me then. The sorrow in her eyes was unbearable. Not even when she told me of what she had done as a member of the Scourge had she been so distraught.  
“I had a child,” she whispered. “I saw those little innocent bodies and I remembered. When I was trapped they took my baby from me. She was so tiny, so new, and they took her away.”   
I caught her up in my arms and held her close, asking questions, trying to understand. She’d been pregnant when the worgen took her; had given birth after escaping from Shadowfang. Then she’d been captured. If the hunters had found a feral worgen with a human child they would not have realised that it was hers. They would have believed she had stolen it. I doubted anyone who was not worgen would have realised this could happen. Krennan’s treatment, intended to restore human memories, must have suppressed that memory. Then it had been lost along with all her other memories when she became Scourge until the sight of those murdered children had brought it to the surface again. I realised too what it meant to me. Somewhere in this vast war-torn world was an unknown child I’d never seen; a daughter who should be with us, her parents.  
I looked up at Gillaen and saw his expression; his shock was as great as mine. I released my hold on Nerissina. “I’m going to get some answers,” I said, feeling my self-control slipping. I was barely outside the door when with a savage snarl I shifted into worgen. I was too angry to maintain my human form any longer. I strode across the training ground to the administrative office, flung open the door and went in. The officer behind the desk looked up in alarm.  
“I want all your records on Nerissina Moonshade,” I snarled at him.  
“I can’t do that,” he replied nervously. “Civilians can’t see military records.”  
“I’d recommend you make an exception this once,” said Gillaen behind me. “He’s really not in the mood to take no for an answer.”  
My brother was senior in rank to the man so he took that suggestion as an order. Quickly searching his files he placed a sheet of paper on the desk between us. I snatched it up and read it. It was all there; how Nerissina had been taken from her patrol, held captive in Shadowfang keep, escaped during a raid and captured by a hunting party. Unlike me she’d already regained her self control by then. There was no mention of a child being with her, just a brief note that she appeared to have given birth recently. Yet they’d refused to believe her. They’d just put her back in uniform and sent her back out to fight. Crumpling the paper in my hand I flung it in the man’s face, turned and stormed out, pushing Gillaen aside. I was furious.   
Needing to vent some of that anger I turned on the nearest thing available; fortunately a training dummy; and shredded it with my claws. The guards at the gate sprang to alertness, wary about letting me leave in my altered state. I snarled at them, determined that no one was going to stop me. Gillaen gestured them away so they made no move towards me. With my brother close on my heels I strode through the city streets to the keep. More than one guard had second thoughts about trying to stop me when they saw my face. I don’t blame them; they didn’t want to risk being bitten by an irate worgen.  
The guards at the keep were of stronger stuff and better armed. They weren’t going to let me in. I stood my ground and bared my fangs in a vicious snarl.  
“You tell that bastard Greymane that I want answers and he can’t hide behind your king forever.”  
I admit I was tempted to transform into a bear and simply fight my way through but I had enough reason left to realise these men were just doing their duty. I saw one go inside and I waited to see what would happen. He was back a few minutes later to say that I would be admitted but if I couldn’t control myself I would be shot. I nodded and followed him inside surrounded by a ridiculously large detachment of guards. Gillaen followed unnoticed. I was escorted to Varian Wrynn’s audience chamber where he sat with Greymane at his side. I noticed several well-armed marksmen positioned all round the room. They were taking no chances but if I offered no threat they would not harm me. My own king couldn’t meet my eyes but the human showed no such reluctance.  
“What do you want here, worgen?” he asked. He didn’t recognize me of course; I’d been in human form last time we met.  
“My name is Arrentai Bearheart. I want information and justice for my wife,” I stated staring him in the face.  
“Explain.”  
I was only too eager to do so. I told him everything, how we had been made into worgen, the drugs we’d been given to restore our minds and all my suspicions of how our people had been deceived for so long. Lastly I told him what Nerissina had told me and what I had just learned.  
“She can’t remember clearly; it was four years ago; and when she was taken by the Scourge she lost all her memories, but she must only just have given birth when they captured her,” I said. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant or I would have looked for the child sooner.”  
“You’re sure it was human?”  
“Yes. If it had looked worgen they wouldn’t have taken it away, would they? It would have been given the same treatment we were.”  
Wrynn pondered for a few minutes; then turned to Greymane.  
“What do you say, Genn? Could this be true?”  
“It’s possible,” he conceded. “But I had nothing to do with the way Krennan Aranas was treating his patients. Or anyone else for that matter.”  
“Yet you’ve had the same treatment haven’t you, my Lord” I said greatly daring. He couldn’t look at me. I knew I was right.  
“How long have you been hiding the fact that you too are a worgen?”  
“Enough,” snapped Wrynn. “Genn, have you anyone here who can provide the information this man needs?”  
It took a little time but they found someone who’d worked with Krennan and who knew what had happened to the children stolen from their worgen mothers. It turned out that they had been sent to the orphanage in Stormwind. Our child was in this very city.  
I told the unfortunate lackey that I would be reclaiming my child within the hour and he hurried away. Gillaen put his hand on my shoulder. Startled I snarled before I realised it was him.  
“Arrentai, you’ve got what you wanted. Come away now.”  
He was right. I took a deep breath as I felt my anger leave me. Then, calm enough at last, I shifted to human. I looked up at Varian Wrynn, apologised and thanked him; then bowed and strode out unhindered. Gillaen hurried after me.   
“I can’t believe you did that,” he said. “You could have got yourself killed.”  
“No one is going to mess about with my family. I’ve had enough from people who think being powerful gives them the right to ruin other people’s lives. Now we need to get Nerissina.”  
We hurried back to the barracks, to fetch Nerissina. She didn’t want to come with us until Gillaen pulled rank on her.  
“On your feet, soldier,” he snapped, “and move.” She had no choice but to obey a direct order. We left the barracks again and headed towards the cathedral square. As we approached the orphanage she realised where we were going and tried to pull back.  
“I can’t,” she said anguished as we headed for the steps up to the open door. We could hear the happy shouts of playing children.  
“There’s nothing bad there, Nerissina, I promise.” Light, how it hurt to hear her pain. What must she have suffered bearing that secret for so long.  
We went inside where the matron was waiting for us. She must have been told what we were yet she welcomed us without reservation.  
“I’ve checked your information against our records,” she said. “Sometimes such records are incomplete but the Gilnean ones are accurate. There was only one newborn child taken from a worgen during the right time period in the area of Shadowfang keep. She was premature and very small, but is now healthy and growing well. ”  
From the table she lifted the tattered remains of a tabard such as the Gilnean army wore.  
“She was wrapped in this.”  
Nerissina stared at it. “That was mine,” she whispered. “She was cold and it was all I had.”  
The matron went to a child who was sitting nearby, took her by the hand and led her towards us.  
“This is your daughter,” she said, smiling. Nerissina looked up at me for reassurance then knelt and held out her arms to take her child. She held her close and smiled. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered. I couldn’t argue; our daughter had her mother’s blue eyes and red-blonde hair.  
After we’d filled out the necessary paperwork and been given a bag with our daughter’s possessions we left the orphanage and wandered into the square. For a while we simply sat on one of the benches getting to know her. Then without warning it began to rain. The nearest shelter was the cathedral and we hurried inside. Nerissina and Gillaen would have been content to wait in the porch, but I took the child and went inside. They followed, curious to see what I had in mind. As the last time I’d visited I walked towards the altar and stood there in the light. The play of light caught the child’s attention and she laughed with delight.  
A priest turned at the sound of her voice and approached me.  
“Welcome, brother," he greeted me, stopping a few paces away as he noticed the yellow tinge to my eyes that marked me as worgen.  
“How may I be of service?”  
“Our daughter has just returned to us and we’d like her to receive the blessing of the Light,” I said.  
“Of course. What is her name?”  
I hadn’t thought of that. I called Nerissina and Gillaen forward. Now the priest was really nervous as he realised what they were. Gillaen noticed his discomfort.  
“In life we were paladins and served the Light,” he said gruffly. “Now we serve it again. We won’t harm you.”  
I explained to Nerissina and she smiled. She bent down to the child’s level and asked what her name was.  
“Talli,” she answered.  
“Would you like a new name for your new life?” She nodded.   
“Taliesa,” Nerissina suggested. I liked that, the feminine form of my father’s name, and close enough to the child’s old name for her not to be confused.  
“Taliesa,” I repeated. The priest nodded and gave the blessing. We thanked him and he went away leaving us alone.  
“I never thought I’d be able to come in here,” Gillaen said quietly his voice betraying his emotion. “I believed my damnation in the Scourge had forever taken the Light from me, but I was wrong. I feel at peace here.”  
I didn’t answer; I’d no idea what I could say. Sometimes there are no words. As we stood there I watched Nerissina. She’d taken Taliesa from me and walked a little closer to the altar where the light was brightest. Now she was kneeling in that pool of light with our child standing in front of her. Taliesa was so curious, wanting to see everything, that only Nerissina's supporting hands kept her from falling as she turned about trying to look everywhere at once.  
“She’ll be a paladin,” Gillaen suggested. “Already she loves the Light.”  
“No. She has the druid’s power in her. It’s in her blood.”  
“So long as that’s all,” he murmured, low enough for Nerissina not to hear.  
“We are made by a bite, not by birth,” I replied equally quietly. “And she will be kept safe.”  
Nerissina rejoined us then. I lifted Taliesa into my arms and we turned to walk away. None of us noticed a group that had entered until we were close to them. I heard my name and I looked up. Our parents stood there a dozen paces away staring at me in disbelief. My mother was the first to speak.  
“They told us you were dead. We thought we’d lost both of you. Where have you been?”  
I had no choice now; I had to explain.  
“I was taken by the worgen,” I replied softly. “I’m no longer the man you once knew.”  
“Oh, Arrentai, that doesn’t make you any less our son.”   
She came forward, reached up to caress my cheek as she’d done so often in my childhood, then flung her arms around me and held me tight. There were tears in her eyes, but they were tears of joy. She truly didn’t care what I had become.   
Gillaen had been following behind us and had already pulled the hood of his cloak up to shield his eyes from sight. Now he strode past us and hurried from the cathedral; clearly he wasn’t ready to reveal himself to our parents. My mother barely gave him a second glance as she released me from her embrace. Beside me I could sense Nerissina’s anxiety. I put my arm round her and drew her close to my side.  
“And who is this little one?”  
“This is my daughter, Taliesa. Nerissina is her mother.” I answered. My mother was equally accepting of Nerissina and what she was and she was delighted with Taliesa. But all this time my father had stayed back, watching silently, his face troubled.  
“Father?” I said uncertainly.  
“No! You are no son of mine while you have that accursed creature at your side.”   
My mother turned to remonstrate with him, but he turned and strode away. She was aghast at his reaction but Nerissina took it surprisingly well.  
“He only said what a lot of people are thinking,” she said. “They’re afraid of us because they can’t forget what we were and have done. I doubt we’ll ever be fully redeemed in the eyes of the people.”  
We sat for a while and talked. At last my mother asked, “What will you do now?”   
“I’ll go back to Darnassus. It’s a good home for our kind. We’ve been made welcome there and it’ll be a safe place for Taliesa,” I told her.  
“I must go back to the army,” Nerissina said. “My redemption requires that I serve those I once harmed.”  
A short while later we parted, my mother to return to her home and Nerissina and I to return to the barracks. As we walked I commented, “Gillaen was right not to reveal himself. He knew our father better than I did. I only hope this doesn’t cause trouble for my mother.”  
“I think she’s stronger than you know,” Nerissina replied. “And now she knows of Taliesa it will give her hope for the future.”  
I stayed in Stormwind for a few days so Nerissina could have time with Taliesa before she had to return to duty. Gillaen spent some of the time with us but at others he made himself scarce. My mother made no more contact with us. Nerissina proved to be a natural mother and I felt it was a shame she would not be able to spend more time with her child. More than once I tried to persuade her to stay with us, but she always refused and eventually she explained.  
“I can’t, Arrentai. Because of what the Scourge did to me I would become a danger to you both. When they took my soul they inflicted me with a terrible hunger, a need to be always killing. It’s like an addiction that can never be cured. So long as I stay with the army I can control it by fighting against the Scourge. If I don’t it will drive me mad and I won’t be able to control the killing. Now you see why people hate and fear us so much. Because of what we could do.” She turned away and was silent for some moments watching Taliesa as she played nearby.  
“I could never forgive myself if I harmed either of you, so please don’t ask me to put us in that situation. You care for our daughter and just let me enjoy time with her when I can. It’s the best way.”  
At the end of a week Gillaen and Nerissina were ordered to rejoin their regiment and I sailed for Darnassus with Taliesa. I found myself a home in the city and employed a Gilnean woman to look after Taliesa while I worked. When she was older I intended to train my daughter as a druid; but for now I’d keep her in the safest place I knew.


	8. Chapter 8

My name is Taliesa.   
For the first few years of my life I lived in the orphanage in Stormwind. I was born, so I was told, in Silverpine Forest. No one knew who my parents were. I’d been taken as a newborn from a worgen female who, it was assumed, had stolen me from my mother. I was given the name Talli; I had no other. How I envied my friends who had a second name, who could remember their families. Nevertheless I was happy enough; and I expected to stay at the orphanage until I was old enough to choose the path I would follow. Even the events of the cataclysm had little effect on my life. Although there was a lot of damage to the city, Cathedral Square escaped undamaged and safe inside the orphanage we never even saw the dragon that attacked Stormwind.  
But a year or two after that my life changed. My few possessions were packed in a bag and I was taken to the matron’s office. No one told me what was going on and I was afraid I was in trouble, that I was being sent away because I was naughty. I was told to sit quietly and wait; so I sat on a chair, hugging my precious rag doll and waited.  
After a while three people came in and spoke to the matron. I watched them curiously. One man did most of the talking; he had long gold hair, nearly the same colour as mine, and a beard. I thought he looked nice. The other man looked a bit like the first but his hair was pale and he had glowing eyes. He wore dark armour and a big sword. The woman also wore armour. She had red hair and the same glowing eyes; but she looked so terribly sad.  
After they’d talked for a while the matron came over to me, took my hand and led me to them.  
“This is your daughter,” she said to them. I looked at them then glanced up at the matron. She smiled and gave me a gentle push towards them. The woman looked anxiously up at the golden haired man who smiled at her; then she knelt down and held out her hands to me. For a moment I didn’t move, unsure of what was happening. Then I went to her. She held me close and said, “She’s beautiful.”  
I looked up at the man. He smiled at me, reached out and gently touched my head. I still wasn’t sure what was happening but I knew I felt good.  
Soon after that we left the orphanage together. We stopped in the square. They sat down on one of the benches near the fountain and the golden haired man explained to me. He and the woman were my parents. I’d been taken from my mother when I was a baby and brought to the orphanage. He hadn’t even known I existed. But now they’d found me and we were going to be a family. It was what I’d dreamed of. The other man was my uncle, my father’s older brother.   
When it began to rain we went into the cathedral to shelter. My mother and uncle stayed near the entrance as though they were uncomfortable being there. My father though led me towards the altar where the light was brightest. A priest came forward to speak to my father who then called the others to join us. My mother asked me what my name was and would I like a new name. Then the priest said some words that I didn’t understand before going away; but my parents were smiling so I guess it was okay.  
We were leaving the cathedral when my father stopped to talk to some people who had just come in. My uncle didn’t stop to talk; he hurried away. The woman, it turned out, was my grandmother. She hadn’t seen my father for a long time; she’d thought he was dead. Now she was happy to see him, my mother, me. The man with her, my grandfather wasn’t happy. He didn’t like my mother; he was very rude to her before he went away. But she didn’t seem too upset; I got the feeling a lot of people were unkind to her for some reason. But I liked my grandmother. I hoped I’d see her again.   
And so I started a new life; with a new name, a family, a new home. My mother and uncle were serving in the army so they stayed in Stormwind. My father took me home with him to Darnassus where we lived in an apartment in a huge tree.

Arrentai   
Taliesa settled well into her new life. She had other children, human and night elf, to play with, a safe home and plenty of space to run about in. She was an obedient child and never gave any trouble to either me or Amalie, her carer. When she tired of running about she liked to sit and watch me as I prepared, cut and sewed my leather goods. Out of a soft piece of deerskin I made her her own trousers and jerkin with a matching set for the doll she carried everywhere.  
“I look just like you, Daddy,” she said delighted as I popped the finishing touch of a soft floppy hat on her head.  
“But you’re not like me, Light be praised,” I thought as I watched her play. “And I hope you never will be.”  
She hadn’t yet seen me in worgen form. In Darnassus there was never any need for me to transform and I never took her away from there. After a few weeks I was summoned to see the druid trainer Mathrengyl Bearwalker at his home in the Cenarion enclave. I took Taliesa along with me; she liked to visit people. It turned out that Mathrengyl had decided I was ready for more training and he wanted me to visit a trainer in Moonglade. Taliesa listened to what he said and asked, “Can I go with you, Daddy?”  
I was starting to tell her no when the night elf interrupted.  
“Why not take her? You’ll not be leaving Nighthaven and its safe enough there.” He was obviously aware of my situation and my fears.  
“It would do the child good to see somewhere else for a change.”  
Taliesa was so eager to go that I agreed. We left a few days later using a simple teleport spell I had been taught. Moonglade was very different from Teldrassil or Darkshore. Instead of normal daylight and dark it was permanently twilight there, the light the restful green of nature. I made the brief walk from the arrival point to the village holding tightly to Taliesa’s hand. I didn’t want her running off in a place we didn’t know. Here and there we saw druids of all races, Horde and Alliance. One in particular caught Taliesa's attention. Sitting under a tree near the lakeside was a massive dark skinned tauren bull with braided mane and forward sweeping horns.  
Taliesa stopped still and stared at him in amazement. “Look, Daddy,” she said, awestruck. “What is it?”  
The tauren heard her; he opened his eyes and looked directly at us, his expression fierce. For a moment I thought he meant to attack us. Then slowly he winked at Taliesa and with an indolent smile closed his eyes again. I let out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. I should have realised the tauren wouldn’t harm us; here in Nighthaven was a place of sanctuary. I led Taliesa away.  
“That is a tauren,” I explained. “He is a druid like me, and here he will not harm us; but anywhere else he is a member of the Horde who are our enemies.”  
I wasn’t sure how much of that Taliesa understood, but she didn’t ask any more. Soon after that we found the trainer I had been sent to see and I spent some time talking with him. Taliesa meanwhile curled up in a chair and fell asleep. When we’d finished our conversation he left me and I stood there for a while gazing out over the lake, enjoying the peace. Gathering up Taliesa in my arms I strolled down the road intending to wander a little way round the lake.  
“Best you don’t go to the other side of the lake,” said a deep voice near me. I looked round to see the tauren. He had risen from his place and was walking towards me. “It’s not safe for the little one there.”  
I paused and looked up at him. Tauren are the tallest race on Azeroth and even as a worgen I’d feel small beside him. “Thanks for your warning, friend,” I said. He nodded and wandered away down the road. I watched him until he disappeared round a corner then turned back towards the village. An elderly night elf sat nearby holding a book that he’d been reading. Now he was watching me.  
“A wise choice to heed the advice of such a one,” he said.  
“Who is he?” I asked curiously.  
“Ah! That is Thaddeus Swiftstorm. He is a powerful druid and renowned as a great healer.”   
I decided it was time to go home. I felt totally out of my depth here. A similar spell to the one that had brought us here took us back to Darnassus.   
We settled back into our routine, but our visit to Moonglade had made me realise that Taliesa should learn more about the wider world. How could I manage that without putting her at risk? Teldrassil is out of the way and not many travellers came there; even fewer came near the Howling Oak; so Taliesa had no idea what most of the races of our world looked like. She knew night elves, humans and worgen of course although I’d still not told her how worgen could also appear human. In the end I solved that first problem by having a friend who was a skilled woodcarver make a set of little figures depicting all the races, both male and female. Taliesa loved them and played endless games with them. Her favourite was the tauren; she talked often of the one we’d seen at Moonglade and I felt glad that her first experience of another race had been such a good one. In time she would have to learn that most tauren were her enemies but that would come when she was older.  
She had been with me about a year when I took her to Darkshore for the first time. I needed to collect some more skins from the stockpile I kept at my workshop there to finish a special order. Because Amalie’s child was ill I decided to take Taliesa with me. It was the first time she had been on a gryphon and she chattered away excitedly. When we landed I led her down from the flight deck and told her that she was to stay close to the inn and not to go anywhere near the bridges that led out of town. I didn’t realise that in her excitement she wasn’t really listening. I unlocked my workshop and began sorting through the skins to find some that were suitable. Kit, the little ginger cat that adopted me when I first arrived in Darkshore and who keeps the mice away from my workshop, strolled out and began to make friends with Taliesa. I didn’t notice that as they played they were getting further away from me. By the time I’d finished what I was doing they were out of sight. Frantically I searched everywhere, until at last I saw them. Taliesa had followed Kit over the bridge that led southwards out of town, slipping un-noticed past the sentinels. They were playing happily on the sand, blissfully unaware of a bear that ambled out of the woods close to them. If I shouted the bear might attack; a spell would not be cast quickly enough; I had to get to her first.  
I began to run; the adrenalin kicked in and I shifted; I couldn’t stop it. In worgen form I dropped to all fours and ran over the bridge, across the sand and past Taliesa. I snarled at the bear, swiping a claw at its face, distracting it from my child and it turned on me. With no time to cast a spell that would give it a quick and painless death I shifted again to cat and hurled myself at it, clawing and tearing until it collapsed under me. I finished it with a quick, merciful slash to the throat, and sank down beside it trying to calm myself before I faced Taliesa.  
“Daddy?” I turned; my daughter stood there not yards from me, Kit held in her arms. She didn’t seem to be afraid of me. I shifted back to worgen so I could speak and gazed at her.  
“Taliesa, I told you to stay in the town,” I said. “Because you disobeyed me I have had to kill this bear. He was doing no harm out here but you put yourself at risk.”  
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quiet and tearful.  
Turning away I looked at the bear. It was young and healthy, maybe it wouldn’t have attacked but I couldn’t take the chance. I began to skin it; it was bad enough I’d had to kill a healthy beast; I wouldn’t make it worse by wasting the skin. When I’d done I bundled up the skin and walked towards Taliesa. I felt calm enough now but I wouldn’t shift back until we were safely in the town. Without a word she fell into step beside me.  
As we passed the now alert sentinel I said, “That’s healthy meat. You should get someone to fetch it.”  
I led Taliesa back to the workshop and pushed open the door. “Inside!” I ordered. She obeyed without a word. I closed the door and stood looking at her. “I didn’t want you to see this until you were old enough to understand, but you have forced my hand. Watch!”  
Slowly I shapeshifted back to my human form and stood watching her.  
“What are you, Daddy?” she whispered.  
“I’m a worgen. I was born human like you, but two years ago I was bitten by a feral worgen, a wild one, and I changed. I became what you saw. I have learnt to control it and I can change back to a man when I choose; but whenever there is danger I will become a worgen again. I can’t help it. I have worked hard to earn the respect of the people here but in many places people hate us. They are afraid of what we could do. I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. Nor would any of the worgen who live in the Howling Oak. But the wild ones would.”  
I’d said enough. Taliesa had plenty to think about. I did my best to clean the blood off myself. Then I gathered up the bundle I’d prepared, added the new skin to it and led my daughter outside. Kit, with a loud purr, settled down in his favourite spot as I closed the door. We went first to the inn; I needed a drink. I bought wine, fruit juice for Taliesa and food and we settled down to enjoy our meal. For most of the meal Taliesa was silent, thoughtful, then she asked, “Daddy, will I be a worgen when I grow up?”  
“No. To become a worgen you have to be bitten by another worgen and I won’t let that happen to you. It hurts and makes you ill; and you can do terrible things until you learn to control it.” I didn’t want to frighten her, but she had to understand how bad it was.  
“Taliesa, if you learn to be a druid like me and like the tauren you can change into other things; but you will always be in control. You could be a bear or a cat or a seal or even a bird.”  
“Wow! I’d like that,” she said excited. “I could fly wherever I wanted. That’d be fun.”  
She wouldn’t be learning that one just yet, I decided; not until she learned some self-discipline.  
I began her training soon after that. Like me she learned quickly; the skills came easily to her. A lot of my time was spent teaching her self-discipline. She was a headstrong child, very much her mother’s daughter; and I didn’t want her getting into the sort of trouble that Nerissina had. Occasionally I allowed her to go to Darkshore with me. She’d learned her lesson about the dangers of wandering off and always stayed close to me. She had just learnt a few simple nature spells and how to shapeshift into a kitten when Nerissina and Gillaen next came to visit. We were relaxing outside the Howling Oak; I was stitching at a piece of leather and Taliesa was practising holding her cat form for more than the few seconds she’d managed so far. I happened to glance up and saw them walking up the path from the city. I didn’t say anything; Taliesa was holding her shapeshift well and I didn’t want to distract her. As they reached us she began to weave through their legs purring loudly.  
“New pet?” Gillaen asked.  
“No. I’ve had this one quite a while,” I answered, playing along with Taliesa's game.   
“But I thought your cat was ginger,” Nerissina said, puzzled.  
Gillaen caught on first; I was having trouble keeping a straight face.  
“Oh!” he said. “It’s that cat.”  
Nerissina looked from one to the other of us as though we were mad.  
“Where is Taliesa?” she demanded.  
Our daughter gave up her game then, slowly shapeshifting back to her normal self.  
“Hello, Mummy. Did you see what I can do? I’m learning to be a druid like Daddy.”  
Gillaen dumped his kitbag and his helmet on the ground and sat down; stretching out and leaning back against the bag. After a moment Nerissina followed his example, sitting close enough to me that I could reach out and kiss her. Taliesa settled herself down between our legs and began to play with her toys. Gillaen picked up the worgen figure and examined it.  
“Did you know that Daddy can turn into a worgen?” Taliesa asked him innocently. “Can you do that?”  
“Yes, I do know,” he replied. “And no I can’t.”  
“You didn’t get bitten then?”  
“No.”  
Nerissina looked at me. “How did she find that out?”  
“He turned into the worgen when he rescued me from the bear. He’s ever so brave.”  
“Arrentai! I thought you were going to keep her safe,” Nerissina scolded me.  
“Daddy did keep me safe. He killed the bear.”  
I obviously wasn’t going to get a chance to speak. I could explain it later when Taliesa was in bed. Gillaen grinned at me and distracted Taliesa by talking about her toys and telling her tales about them.  
We’ll have new stories to tell soon,” he commented. I looked up from my stitching. “Oh?”  
“There’s rumours going round that we’re being sent to Tol Barad. The Horde have been causing trouble there and they want us to reinforce our garrison. They say the king doesn’t want to risk the Horde taking over the whole of the islands.”  
“Of course,” I commented cynically. “It wouldn’t do to let the Horde get any land.”  
“Arrentai, if our regiment is sent we won’t have a choice,” Nerissina said quietly. “We could be there for months, until we can get the situation under control.”   
“Don’t they care that you have a family here?”  
“Death knights aren’t supposed to have a family. There are only a handful of us who re-established contact after Light’s Hope.”  
We’d forgotten that Taliesa was listening to our conversation, and now she asked, “What’s death knights?”  
I looked helplessly at Gillaen. “I can’t explain this one,” I said.  
Fortunately my brother was very good at improvising; he’d had a lot of practice when he was a boy, trying to get out of trouble.  
“We’re a special kind of soldier,” he told her. “The very best. When the king needs a tough job doing he calls us because he knows we’ll get it done.”  
Taliesa seemed happy with that and I certainly wasn’t going to tell her the truth; that in fact death knights like her mother and uncle were loathed and feared the world over. I mouthed thanks to him over her head. He grinned back at me.  
“Ahh! I’ve just remembered, I have a gift for you, Taliesa,” he said then, turning to rummage in a pocket of his capacious pack. He pulled out a small, familiar looking box which he handed to her. As she opened it and took out the carved figures one by one I looked at my brother.  
“Where?...”  
“You left it behind at the farm. I found it on the way back from Northrend after the cataclysm.”  
“It’s still there?”   
“Yes. The Blackwald and the eastern regions are still there. Only the western farmlands were lost.”  
“I always wondered but I was afraid to go back, afraid of what I might find.”  
“It’s pretty much deserted now, not much more than a few Forsaken and feral worgen there now.”  
We stayed there until it was time for the evening meal and Taliesa's bedtime. Once she was asleep Nerissina demanded explanations. I told her all that had happened in Darkshore, including what I had told Taliesa afterwards.  
Gillaen, listening quietly in the background, spoke then.  
“I don’t see that you can blame Arrentai completely,” he said calmly.  
“It sounds to me as though Taliesa is truly your daughter, Neri. How many times have you ignored advice or orders and rushed into things without thinking? I can think of quite a few.”  
Nerissina glared at him then turned back to me.  
“Just keep her safe, please, Arrentai. Knowing she’s here with you is all that makes my life bearable.”   
“I promise you I will always try my best; but she needs some freedom. I can’t keep her confined. When I was caged I wanted only to die. I couldn’t bear the thought of living that way. Taliesa is the same. But I will teach her to keep safe. Learning to be a druid will give her those skills.”  
I touched my hand gently against her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin. “All right?”  
After a moment she nodded and allowed me to pull her into my arms. Gillaen, realising that he was in the way, announced that he was off to the inn for a drink, and disappeared out the door. Nerissina gazed after him for a moment.  
“He’s lonely,” she said. “He needs a woman of his own.”  
“Oh! Can death knights.....?” I left my question unfinished but she understood.  
“I’ve no idea; but he needs something.”  
Half asleep we heard him return much later, stumbling in the darkness as he tried to find the mattress I’d put out for him. The next morning I saw that whatever else they could or couldn’t do death knights could certainly have a hangover. Leaving him to sleep it off Taliesa and I took Nerissina out to see Darnassus.  
For the first week or so we were like a normal family, doing the things that families do. Then I noticed that Nerissina and Gillaen were getting restless and snappy; and the Scourge light in their eyes was brighter. When Nerissina slapped Taliesa for a minor fault I knew I had to do something quickly. Leaving my daughter with Amalie I took Nerissina and Gillaen to Darkshore; to the hills to hunt bear. Contenting myself with skinning the beasts they killed; I was shocked to see the savagery with which they went about the task. Only now did I fully realise how that hunger they had been cursed with controlled their lives. With an awful certainty I knew Nerissina and I could never live a normal life together.   
Nothing was said between the three of us about that time; but within a week Nerissina and Gillaen left to return to Stormwind. I had no idea when or even if we would see them again. Taliesa was content in her belief that they were serving the king. I had to bear my knowledge of the truth alone.

Nerissina  
I did my best to fit into Arrentai's life; to be like a normal living woman. And for the first week or so I succeeded. I think it helped that Taliesa accepted me as normal. Arrentai and I had agreed from the start that we wouldn’t tell her the truth about what I and Gillaen were. It wasn’t something a child so young needed to know. She didn’t even question the Scourge light in our eyes; she must have thought it was like the glow of magic in the night elves’ eyes. Arrentai treated me with the same loving gentleness that he always had but I was very aware that he watched us both closely. I was a fool to think I could be normal. As time passed I could feel the hunger beginning to grow in my belly until it became a pain I could scarcely bear. When I looked at Gillaen and saw the burning brightness of his eyes I knew he was feeling the same. Then one morning I snapped. I can’t remember what Taliesa did; just some silly little naughtiness; but it was enough to make me lose my temper and I slapped her hard enough to leave a mark on her skin. Arrentai didn’t say a word; he just gathered up the weeping child in his arms and walked out.  
When he came back some time later he was alone. For a long moment he just stood there in the doorway watching the two of us before he spoke.  
“Outside, both of you,” he said coldly. Gillaen obeyed at once; I hesitated, but Arrentai's expression silenced me. He followed me out and closed the door. Vaguely I noticed that there were more sentinels than usual about.  
“We’re going to Darkshore,” he said setting off through the city to the flight point near the portal tree. Under the watchful escort of a handful of well armed sentinels we followed him. Neither of us were armed. Our weapons and armour were handed to us when we arrived at Lor’danel. Arrentai watched in silence as we armed ourselves.  
“There are bears out there that need killing,” he said. “If you can’t control yourselves go and fight them. Don’t take out your frustration on an innocent child.”  
We headed out to the hills in search of our prey. Arrentai followed us but I was scarcely aware of him as the bloodlust took control and we began killing. One after another we slaughtered the beasts leaving their bodies for Arrentai to deal with. It was almost dark before either of us gained any semblance of control, but Arrentai would not allow us to return to the town. For three days we stayed out on the hills until we had subdued the hunger. Then we walked back into Lor’danel carrying the hides that Arrentai had skinned from our victims. We flew back to Rut’theran village where we were made to hand over our weapons before being allowed to step through the portal.   
We went back to Arrentai's home, but although he let us in he obviously didn’t fully trust us for he left Taliesa with the friend who was caring for her. That night I lay in bed wakeful; staring at his back as he slept beside me. Eventually I got up and wandered out to the other room. Gillaen obviously couldn’t sleep either. He sat on his mattress trying to lose himself in a bottle of strong spirits. As I sat beside him he handed me the bottle. I took a generous mouthful, swallowed and almost choked. It was vile stuff.  
“I can’t do this,” I said. “I can’t be normal. I love my daughter more than anything in the world; but I hurt her without a second thought because I couldn’t control myself.”  
I buried my face in my hands and began to weep. After a while I felt Gillaen put his arm round my shoulder and hold me close.  
“We should go back,” he said softly and I nodded.  
Two days later we left Teldrassil. I didn’t know if I could ever come back. I was too afraid that I would harm the two people I loved most.


	9. Chapter 9

Arrentai  
Although I hadn’t seen her or heard from her I hadn’t forgotten the young night elf who had befriended me at a lonely point in my life. Sometimes I wondered what she was doing. Was she still roaming from place to place, offering her services where she could be useful, or had she settled down? Found a family of her own?  
About six months after Nerissina and Gillaen had returned to their regiment I decided to go down to Rut'theran to do some fishing. Taliesa, having finished her lessons, went with me. Having mastered cat form she was now learning bear form and liked to practice it. So I stepped from the portal with a bear cub gambolling around my feet. I settled down at my favourite spot near the pier, cast my line and relaxed while Taliesa played nearby.  
The ship from Stormwind had just arrived and its passengers were coming ashore. I paid them little attention until a great striped white hunter cat caught my eye, bounding off the pier ahead of its companion and stopping not far from me. Then giving a sound like a purr it came right up to me and pressed against my shoulder catching me off balance. I grabbed at my rod before I lost it in the water and stared at it. For a moment I was baffled; then I realised that I knew this cat. It was Maelinastra’s pet Snowtooth. Although he’d only seen me as a worgen before he knew me by my scent. Idly stroking his neck with my hand I looked round towards the nearby group of night elves. Now I was paying attention Maelinastra was immediately recognisable with that unusual white blonde hair. She walked towards me a little way.  
“I’m sorry about that, friend,” she said, not knowing my human form.  
“Hello, Maelinastra,” I said. “It’s good to see you again.”  
“Do I know you?” she asked, puzzled.  
“I’m Arrentai.”  
“Oh! The worgen with a death wish.”  
I grinned, embarrassed. “That’s me.”  
Her two companions had stopped a little way behind her. I looked at them. The first, older and grey of hair, obviously a hunter, wore good quality dark mail armour and helmet, and carried a crossbow. His pet was a dark skinned raptor, the kind they called a devilsaur. I watched it closely; it was eyeing Taliesa a little too hungrily for my liking. I called her to my side and told her to change back. Once she was human again I relaxed. The second man, the younger of the two, wore the robes of a mage in the soft muted shades of the woodland. Bare headed, his hair, worn long and loose, was the dark blue of the night sky.  
He moved to Maelinastra’s side and rested a tanned hand on her shoulder. “Won’t you introduce us, Maeli?” he asked gently.  
“Of course. This is Arrentai Bearheart. He’s a druid. We met a little over two years ago in Darkshore. I was hunting bear at the time and I shot him.”  
“She mistook me for a bear,” I explained. “My fault.”  
“You’ll have to tell me more later.”  
Maelinastra went on. “Arrentai, this is Josstellan Ravenwing. We met in Northrend a while ago. He’s my... my very close friend.”  
I smiled. She was obviously still uncertain enough about their relationship to be unwilling to put a name to it.  
The older man spoke then, his voice impatient, harsh. He didn’t wait to be introduced.  
“If you wish to spend some time with your friend I will meet you both at the temple later.”  
Without waiting for an answer he turned and strode away up the hill followed by his devilsaur. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maelinastra smiled.  
“He is a bit intimidating, isn’t he? But Kyletoruse is quite well thought of by our leaders.”  
“I’m not worried about him,” I replied. “It’s his pet. It looked like it wanted Taliesa for its supper.” Maelinastra laughed.  
“I know what you mean. Snowtooth doesn’t like him either. He won’t let him anywhere near me.”  
Just then my fishing line, which was still trailing in the water, jerked. I turned my attention to it, carefully reeling a large fish.  
“Supper, I think,” I said, turning back to them. “Would you both like to join us?”  
“Thank you, we would; but I think we should meet Kyletoruse first and get that over with,” Josstellan said.  
Together we walked up to the portal and into Darnassus. As Taliesa ran ahead Maelinastra commented, “I didn’t know you had a daughter, Arrentai.”  
“Neither did I when we last met. I found her a few months after that.”  
“And her mother?”  
“She’s in the army; a death knight. We don’t see her very often.”  
“I see. Arrentai, I won’t pry but if you want to talk I’m happy to listen.”  
I paused and looked at her. She obviously heard the tension in my voice, the sadness I could never quite hide.  
“I think I’d like that,” I said. I’d kept my emotions hidden for so long for Taliesa’s sake. I felt I needed someone I could discuss my fears with; someone I could trust. And although I didn’t really know her that well; instinctively I knew I could trust Maelinastra.  
As we reached the parting of our ways I told them to ask for me at the Howling Oak. They headed for the temple; we went home.  
It was approaching dusk when they arrived. Our meal was cooked and ready to eat, and Taliesa was doing her best not to fall asleep. They apologised for keeping me waiting but their meeting had dragged on. I served up the meal while Josstellan opened one of the bottles of wine they’d brought with them.  
After Taliesa had gone to bed we sat there talking and drinking. I don’t remember how many bottles we got through between us. But with Maelinastra's gentle encouragement and the relaxing influence of a considerable amount of alcohol I was able to talk about my fears and concerns.  
“I think,” said Maelinastra softly, “that you need to let Nerissina decide how involved she wants to be. She obviously cares about you and Taliesa and doesn’t want to hurt you. She has to balance your needs with hers; and hers will always have to come first because of their nature. Just be patient with her.”  
I nodded drowsily and finished my glass. Standing up a little unsteadily I said, “I’m going to bed. Thank you for listening to me; it has helped, I think.”  
I made my way to Taliesa's room to sleep on the spare mattress, as I’d already offered Maelinastra and Josstellan the use of my room to give them some privacy. I slept restlessly; painfully aware of the quiet sounds from the next room every time I half stirred, and knowing that my young guests shared what I so desperately wanted, a simple and uncomplicated love. I knew in my heart that Maelinastra’s advice was right but I wasn’t ready yet to give up hope for my relationship with Nerissina. I loved her too much for that.  
I awoke early the next morning with a sore head, dry throat and unsettled stomach; none of which was helped by Taliesa’s normal exuberance. I gave her some breakfast and sent her outside to play with her friends. I was sitting alone sipping at a herbal remedy when Josstellan emerged from the bedroom, half dressed and looking almost as bad as I felt.  
“Do you have any more of that?” he asked softly.  
“Help yourself.” I indicated the kettle simmering over the fire. He poured himself a mugful and joined me at the table. The empty wine bottles still sat there between us.  
“Did we drink that much?” he commented.  
“Well it certainly wasn’t me.”  
Maelinastra joined us looking cheerful and well-rested. She helped herself to a slice of bread, spread it with butter and began to eat.  
“I have no sympathy for either of you. You’re both old enough to know better. Joss, we have to meet Kyletoruse at midday ready to go on to the Exodar.”  
“I know,” he replied. “I’ll be ready.” He finished his drink slowly and put the mug down. Then standing he bent to kiss Maelinastra before disappearing back to the bedroom.  
“Is there any truth to the rumours about Tol Barad?” I asked.  
She looked at me. “Where did you hear that?”  
“Gillaen, my brother. He thinks the death knight regiments will be sent there to make up the garrison.”  
“It’s not common knowledge yet; but yes, the king wants to reinforce the garrison there. The Horde have been showing too much interest in some of the prisoners there. We need to stop them from taking over and causing trouble. Kyletoruse is talking to the leaders, finding out what support they’ll give us if there’s trouble.”  
“Best you don’t repeat any of this,” said Josstellan rejoining us, fully dressed and clean shaven. “Wait until it’s officially announced.”  
I nodded. “Are you two going?”  
“Yes. I’ll be helping set up a mage portal for travel once we’ve established a base there. Maeli will help out wherever she’s needed.”  
“At least you’ll be together.” I know I sounded bitter; I couldn’t help it.  
Maelinastra rested her hand gently on my arm.  
“I hope things work out for you, Arrentai. The trouble is; no one knows that much about death knights. Maybe they can be cured, maybe not. Only time will tell, I think.”  
She looked thoughtful.  
“You said your brother’s name was Gillaen?” I nodded.  
“I met a death knight named Gillaen Bearheart in Icecrown two or three years ago. Would that be him?”  
“Yes. He was in Northrend. I think he’s back there now, keeping the Scourge under control. So how did you meet him?”  
“We were raiding the Citadel; fighting the Lich King.”  
“He never mentioned it; but then Gillaen doesn’t talk much about what he does.”  
“No. he didn’t say much then, other than telling us what needed to be done. But he knew what he was doing. He’s a good soldier and leader.”  
I nodded.  
“He was fortunate that he made his life in the army,” I mused. “It meant that he was able to return to that life with little difficulty when he was freed from the Scourge’s control. It also gives him a permissible outlet for his hunger.”  
“You’re very accepting of what he is,” Josstellan commented.  
“I have to be. He’s my brother, and like it or not, that’s what he is. I could not reject what he is without also rejecting who he is. And that is simply not on. We’ve always been there for each other and I don’t see that anything has changed that.”  
They left a little while after that, to join Kyletoruse at the temple, to take the portal to the Exodar. I wished them good fortune, both in their personal life and with the expedition. And invited them to call and see us again next time they were in Darnassus.  
After that I began to re-evaluate my own life. I made a good living with my leatherworking and I loved Taliesa of course; but it wasn’t enough anymore. Since childhood I had trained as a druid, to work with nature, to heal and protect. There was so much I could do out in the world, so much damage that needed a druid’s care. It would mean leaving Taliesa unfortunately; but Amalie would care for her and I could come back often. And so I made my plans; Taliesa would live with Amalie and continue her lessons with the druid trainers at the Howling Oak; and I would volunteer my services where they could best be used. My daughter accepted my decision happily enough; after all a lot of her friends’ parents worked away from Teldrassil. I bought myself a sturdy mountain bred horse to ride and to carry my belongings and arranged to have it shipped to the mainland. Then on a chill autumn day I left my home and my daughter to carry out my calling in the wide world.  
My work in Darkshore was done; I had helped with healing the damage done by out of control magic and elementals. The rebuilding could be done by anyone with a strong back and arms. I moved south into Ashenvale where the same problems abounded, compounded by the presence of the Horde. Although I hated fighting, at times it was unavoidable. All the while I was learning, growing stronger, gaining more abilities. Over recent months I had neglected my studies, now I made an effort with them. It wasn’t easy without a trainer to help and guide me but I persevered. I wanted the knowledge and ability to heal Nerissina; to save her from the curse that dominated her life. I didn’t know if it was possible but I would never cease trying. From Ashenvale I moved further south into Stonetalon Mountains, the Barrens, Desolace; always searching, learning, growing stronger and more powerful.  
As I got further away I went home less often. Travel became more difficult and I wasn’t always well paid. Besides which my obsession drove me on in my endless quest for knowledge. On one of my rare visits home Amalie assured me that Taliesa was content; happy with her studying and her friends. Indeed it seemed as though she hardly missed me. Neither Nerissina nor Gillaen had visited again; although my brother had sent Taliesa a set of figures representing some of the creatures that he’d seen on his travels. They had, as Nerissina had suspected, been sent to Tol Barad to control the situation there. She had made no contact at all. I was more afraid than ever that I was losing her.  
It was a lonely life I was leading; I never stayed in any place long enough to make friends. In a short space of time I saw more of our world than many people see in a lifetime. I would happily have exchanged that experience for the chance to live a normal family life such as I’d enjoyed as a boy.  
While I was in Desolace I acquired a pair of travelling companions for a while. It was nearing dusk as I rode into the region from Stonetalon Mountains. I was tired from too many days of fighting Horde and I needed to find somewhere peaceful to rest for a while. A sentry I met along the road suggested I visit Nijel’s Point, warning me to beware of the satyrs that had moved into the area around the ruins of Sargeron. Following her instructions I turned eastwards along the foot of the mountains until I came to the roadway that led up to the settlement. I paused there to allow my weary horse to rest awhile before tackling the steep ascent; looking around with interest as it grazed on some stubby bushes. I could see the ruins the sentry had mentioned in the distance with figures moving around.  
I was about to turn the horse up the road when my ears caught the sound of raised distressed sounding voices. I couldn’t ignore it. Leaving my horse where he was with the reins trailing so he wouldn’t wander, I dropped to the ground, shifted to worgen, and on all fours raced towards the sound. They didn’t see me coming; low to the ground and blending into the grey dusty ground, I reached the group of satyrs unchallenged.  
The cries were coming from two small figures at their centre. Not much larger in size than Taliesa, they were goblins. One, clearly female with auburn hair tied in girlish bunches, was trying to cast spells that were constantly interrupted. Her companion, clad head to toe in well-worn leather armour, was wielding a short sword in either hand and screaming abuse at the satyrs. In the brief moment it took for me to notice all this one of the satyrs picked up a sizeable rock and flung it at the spell-caster. It caught the side of her head and she fell, stunned. Her companion continued his shrieking but now there was an edge of panic to his voice.  
Standing upright again I shifted to bear form and charged straight into the group knocking the satyrs every way. Some tried to fight back but they weren’t particularly skilled fighters and I defeated them fairly easily. The rest retreated to a safe distance to regroup and I seized my chance. I turned to the goblins, shifted back to worgen, and gently lifted up the injured one.  
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get out of here before they start feeling brave.”  
The little goblin rogue nodded and started gathering up the bags that lay scattered round them. He couldn’t manage them all so I grabbed some and started walking; keeping a cautious eye behind me. We were more than halfway to the road when the satyrs realised we were getting away and started to follow us. I sped up as much as I could without leaving the goblin behind but they were getting closer. When he saw where we were going the goblin hesitated.  
“Alliance doesn’t like goblins,” he said in common tongue.  
“Are you Horde?”  
“No. We’re Steamwheedle Cartel; independent traders.”  
“You’ll be okay then. You can either come with me or stay down here with the satyrs but your friend needs help.”  
He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll come. You be careful with her.”  
When we reached the horse I hung the bags I was carrying on the patient beast’s saddle and caught up the reins with my free hand. I glanced back at the satyrs; they’d given up following us. They obviously knew of the forces up at Nijel’s Point and didn’t want to mess with them.  
We walked up the road where we were stopped by the sentry. I made a brief explanation and we were allowed to pass. We went all the way up to the inn where I asked if there was a healer available. When none was forthcoming I set about tending the wounded goblin myself. She’d had a nasty blow to the head, leaving her concussed. I cleaned the wound and bandaged it then left her to rest.  
I bought some food to share with the other goblin.  
“Now, little guy, tell me what you were doing to get yourself caught by those satyrs.”  
“I’m not a guy, I’m a girl, my name’s Perriiov Fizzlewire,” she said indignantly. Well how was I supposed to know, they all look alike to me. Anyway while she ate she talked. Her friend was an engineer. Getting parts could be expensive so they’d decided to try scavenging. They’d sailed from the goblin port of Booty Bay to Ratchet and had been wandering around Kalimdor seeing what they could find. Being a rogue she was pretty good at sneaking into places to find stuff, but this time she’d been caught out and her friend had got hurt.  
“They didn’t even have any good stuff,” she complained. I grinned with amusement; I couldn’t help it. They’d almost got themselves killed and all she could complain about was the lack of any useful loot.  
A messenger came to the inn to ask me to call on the military commander. I wandered down to the main settlement and found him at his headquarters. After I’d told him what had happened he explained a little of the situation.  
Quite a large group of satyrs had set up camp around the ruins of the shrines at Sargeron. At first they hadn’t been much of a nuisance, they’d just found a green bit of land and figured it would make a good home for a while. The trouble was that they had started annoying travellers and sometimes robbing them; and that needed to stop.  
The commander asked if I’d be willing to try and help, see if I could calm things down a bit. I said I’d give it a go. But first I needed a good night’s sleep.  
The next morning I left my horse and belongings at the inn and headed down the road to see what I could do. I wandered about for a bit observing them from a distance and some of them watched me. It didn’t seem as though they were doing any damage to the shrines but they obviously didn’t like visitors. I got closer and they began to get agitated. I was just about to move away when a group of them, bolder than the rest, drew weapons and began threatening me. I cast a few nature spells hoping to scare them into better behaviour that way. I really didn’t want to kill any of them un-necessarily. They weren’t impressed; they had, it turned out, some pretty good spell casters of their own.  
They rushed me en masse and I just had time to change to bear form before they attacked. Even so I couldn’t hold my own against the sheer weight of their numbers and I turned to flee. I risked a shift to a faster form which in retrospect wasn’t so clever. Bear form is pretty tough, my other forms not so much so. I chose worgen, intending to drop to all fours and run like hell. They began pelting me with rocks; I could feel them hitting my back and shoulders. I was almost back to the sentry point when a lucky shot on their part caught me square on the temple and I dropped. I learned later that if it hadn’t been for the quick reactions of the sentries I’d have died there.  
I awoke back in my room at the inn with a pounding headache. Cautiously I lifted my hand to touch my head, feeling the bandages neatly wrapped round it.  
“Hey! Leave them alone,” a gentle voice said. Slowly I opened my eyes and shut them again as the light made my head worse.  
“Just rest,” the voice went on. “That’s a nasty wound.”  
I obeyed, drifting off to sleep. When I woke again it was dark. I felt stiff and bruised, but my headache had eased a little so I chanced moving. The resulting nausea convinced me that was not such a good idea and I lay back again.  
“Here, drink this, it might help.” The same gentle voice I’d heard before spoke again. My head was lifted carefully and a cup held to my lips. I sipped the sweetened herbal brew gratefully. It did help, easing both nausea and headache. After a while I felt able to open my eyes and move. The woman who sat by my bed was a stranger. Older than Nerissina, closer probably to my age, she had blonde hair and green eyes that bore the all too familiar look of sorrow.  
“Who are you?” I asked curiously.  
“Lizabetha Waters,” she replied. “I arrived yesterday. They asked me to have a look at you because I’m a herbalist.”  
I thanked her and introduced myself. We talked for a while; I had liked her immediately and wanted to know more about her. She came from the Arathi Highlands, she told me; her family had a farm there, had done for generations, until an attack by orcs had wiped them all out. She’d lost parents, husband, and children. She alone had survived and had sworn revenge, becoming a warlock in order to do so. She’d sailed from Menethil Harbour to Theramore and worked her way through the Barrens and Stonetalon Mountains killing any orc she came across. She had the same obsessive determination that I did, I realised; although I feared that hers would bring her only grief in the end whereas I hoped to reunite my family. In those few days we spent together while I was recovering we became close. I saw nothing of the goblins in that time, although they were still around, unwilling to leave the safety of the settlement without a travelling companion to protect them.  
The day Lizabetha removed my bandages was the day our relationship changed. I looked upon her as a friend, nothing more and I’d told her about my family so she knew I wasn’t free. I loved Nerissina and wasn’t looking for anyone to take her place. However we were both lonely and I believe that influenced what happened.  
My wound was healing nicely but my hair round it was caked with dried blood. I’d always taken pride in my appearance so I asked the innkeeper for water so I could wash it. Stripped to the waist I was busy at the task when Lizabetha returned un-noticed. It wasn’t until I reached for a towel and straightened up that I saw her. She stood in the doorway watching me with a look of unfathomable sorrow.  
“Are you all right?” I asked, concerned. I began to rub my hair a little too vigorously and caught the new scar tissue. I took a sharp intake of breath which she noticed. Coming to me she took the towel from my hands, made me sit and began to gently rub my hair. I began to relax under her soothing touch.  
“I used to do this for my husband,” she said softly, remembering a happy memory.  
“He had hair like yours, long, thick, easily tangled. His was darker though and he wore it tied back. He used to joke that he had more hair than I have.”  
She set the towel aside, picked up my comb and began to carefully tease at the knots in my hair. It felt an incredibly intimate thing for her to be doing.  
“Nerissina has shorter hair too,” I said. “But she’s a redhead.”  
For a moment Lizabetha was silent then she gave a sob. I turned as she began to weep and pulled her into my arms to comfort her. It was all I intended but I couldn’t help the reaction of my body to her closeness. She didn’t pull away as I expected; instead she responded to me and before we realised it we ended up in bed together. Neither of us planned on this happening but we were both starved of affection and it seemed right at that moment. Afterwards we fell asleep together.  
When I awoke at dawn the next morning I was confused, thinking for a moment that it was Nerissina beside me in my bed. Then my brain cleared, and I remembered what had happened. Oddly enough I didn’t feel as guilty as I should have done.  
Yes, I’d betrayed Nerissina but I hadn’t seen or heard from her for well over a year and I was lonely. I wasn’t happy with my life and I needed more than Nerissina was prepared to give; more than she was possibly able to give. I had accepted the fact that she couldn’t stay with us; but she could visit occasionally, and she could certainly write to us. The person most hurt by her absence was our daughter. Although she said nothing I knew that Taliesa missed her mother and couldn’t understand why she never saw her now. We couldn’t go on like this with none of us truly happy, something had to be done to resolve the situation before it ruined all our lives.  
Lizabetha stirred restlessly and turned towards me, still half asleep. Gently I caressed her bare shoulder but made no effort to do anything more. I was content to just lie there holding her.  
Eventually we got up and left the inn. Sooner or later I would have to move on but for the moment Nijel’s Point was a peaceful place to be. We wandered downhill to the outpost headquarters to talk to the commander. I was curious to know what was happening with the satyrs since my encounter with them. Sadly he had sent his troops down and killed several of them to teach them that any trouble would be met with force in return. I was disappointed; I’d felt that some old corrupted magic was affecting them, making them violent; and I’d believed that a peaceful way could have been found. Now I’d not have a chance to test my theory.  
I asked about the goblins and was told that they were still around.  
“I think they’re too scared of the satyrs to leave here alone,” the commander said. “They didn’t want to stay in the inn; they’ve set up camp between the forge and the cook shop.”  
I thanked him and we went to look for them. Sure enough they’d set up a rough shelter between the two buildings. Under it the auburn haired spell caster had emptied her loot onto the ground and was busy sorting it into piles. She glanced up briefly as we approached then returned to her task. I watched in silence for a minute or two.  
“Can I help you?” she asked.  
“I just wondered how you were,” I answered quietly.  
“Why d’you want to know?”  
She stopped her sorting then and looked up at me.  
“They said a worgen rescued me. You don’t look like a worgen.”  
“I can do if you prefer,” I replied.  
“No! No need for that. I believe you. Thank you. I’m okay now; it was only a little bump.”  
I grinned in amusement; her injury had looked as bad as mine at the time.  
“I’m Arrentai,” I said. “What’s your name?”  
“Ti’Grenna Sparklenut. I’m a powerful mage, you know.”  
“Of course. I’m sure you’d have handled those satyrs all on your own if you hadn’t been hurt.”  
“Sure I would.”  
She went back to her sorting for a few moments; then stopped again and looked at me. She knew I wasn’t fooled.  
“I couldn’t really. I’m not a very good mage. I need more lessons but they cost money so I make things to sell. I need metal but mining is hard work so I try to find stuff I can use; junk that no one wants.”  
“Where’s your friend?”  
“Perriiov? Somewhere; I don’t know. She’s not really my friend. We met in Ratchet when I arrived from Booty Bay. She said it would be safer if we travelled together; she’d protect me.”  
She laughed. “Some bodyguard, huh? Maybe I’ll find a new friend to travel with; someone bigger.”  
I took the hint; it was lonely travelling by myself and she amused me.  
“You could travel with me for a while if you like.”  
“Where you going?”  
“Nowhere in particular. Wherever they need a druid to heal things.”  
“Sounds good to me. I’ll tell Perriiov when she comes back; she doesn’t need to protect me now.”  
Telling her I’d let her know when I was ready to leave we left her to her work. Lizabetha laughed.  
“You were conned, you know.”  
“No. I know what I’m doing. I like her. It’ll make a change to have a companion to travel with. My horse isn’t much for conversation; nor is Kit.”  
I glanced affectionately at the little cat following behind us. He’d decided to tag along when I left Darkshore and had followed me since then.  
I bought us some food from the cook shop and we sat by the Moonwell to eat. The peace was disturbed by the sound of raised voices from the headquarters building higher up the hill. We saw the commander, who’d been talking to one of the sentries, hurry up there to find out what was going on. Minutes later two armed sentries went over to the goblins’ camp and arrested Ti’Grenna.  
“What’s happening?” we heard her wail. “I haven’t done anything.”  
I jumped to my feet and followed them. I was responsible for bringing the goblins here; if they were in trouble I needed to know what was wrong. They dragged the frightened goblin up the hill to the commander’s office. The sentry on guard outside looked at me curiously as I went inside but made no attempt to stop me. The previously neat office was a mess; filing cabinets were open and papers strewn everywhere. Ti’Grenna’s fellow goblin stood defiantly between two sturdy guards who were holding onto her tightly. Her weapons had been taken from her and lay on the desk.  
The commander looked at me, thinking maybe I could be of use.  
“They caught this creature going through my private papers; spying!” he said angrily.  
“I need to know if the other one is working with it.”  
Ti’Grenna gazed at Perriiov in dismay.  
“Why, Perriiov?” she asked. “You said you could help me find material for my engineering. Why do this?”  
Perriiov glared at her.”Fool!” she hissed. Ti’Grenna began to weep quietly.  
“What are you asking me to do?” I asked the commander.  
“Use your magic. Find out the truth.”  
“My magic is for healing, not what you are asking. All I can do is listen to her and tell you what I feel.”  
He nodded, realising that I meant what I said. I crouched in front of Ti’Grenna and spoke gently to her, encouraging her to tell the commander what she had told me. Hesitantly she did so. She was a very insecure person I realised. Her family, all members of the Steamwheedle Cartel, had not encouraged her desire to become a mage; so she’d left her home and travelled to Kalimdor in search of a teacher. She’d been persuaded to fall in with Perriiov’s suggestions, hoping to earn the money to pay for the lessons she wanted. She readily answered all our questions, not trying to hide anything. The bravado she’d shown earlier was just a show to hide her fear.  
I stood and looked at the commander. “I believe her,” I said. “I don’t sense any falseness or trickery about her. I’m sure she wasn’t involved.”  
He agreed. “But she can’t stay here,” he said.  
“She’ll leave with me,” I told him. “I’ll be moving on in a few days.”  
The commander turned to stare at Perriiov. “This one, however, won’t be going free. It was caught red-handed going through private documents. That is proof enough of guilt for me.”  
He gestured to the guards and they marched Perriiov out to lock her up in a cell. I took charge of Ti’Grenna and led her outside. Lizabetha was waiting for me. Briefly I explained what had happened and ended by telling her that I’d be leaving with the young goblin in a few days.  
“I’ll miss you,” she said softly as we walked down the road. I stopped and looked at her.  
“Why not come with us,” I suggested. “You’d be more than welcome. Just as friends if that’s what you prefer.”  
“I might do that,” she replied.  
We escorted Ti’Grenna back to her camp where she resumed her sorting. She put some of the bags to one side untouched.  
“Those belong to Perriiov,” she explained. “I can’t take them.”  
I called a guard over and explained. Neither Ti’Grenna nor I knew what was in them so I suggested they should be searched for weapons. It was up to the commander if he wanted to give the rest of their contents to his prisoner. The guard took the bags away. I told Ti'Grenna to finish sorting her stuff so that she was ready to leave when I was; then Lizabetha and I went back to the inn.  
There was nothing keeping me at the outpost. After all I’d only stopped there for some rest. I was just giving my companions time to sort themselves out. In the end we left only two days later. Lizabetha had her own horse, a fiery hoofed warlock mount which she could summon from another dimension when she needed it. Very handy I thought; she didn’t have to worry about feeding or grooming it. The little goblin had been walking before; so we divided Ti’Grenna’s bags between the horses and we all walked. We’d decided to head for Karnum’s Glade in the Cenarion Wildlands at the heart of Desolace. Our way took us towards Sargeron to join the road we needed. Ti’Grenna however was very nervous about that, and unwilling to go on. Lizabetha paused for a moment to cast a spell, a summoning. The air near her began to shimmer and a strange looking creature appeared. Four legged with dark scaly hide and long tail, horns and tentacles, and a pointed jaw full of sharp teeth; it was a fearsome beast. It lumbered up to Lizabetha’s side and stood there as though awaiting orders. She rested her hand on its head and gazed silently at it for a moment, then turned to Ti’Grenna.  
“You don’t need to worry now. Jhaadhun will keep anything from bothering us.”  
Ti’Grenna stared at it. “What is it?” she asked.  
“Jhaadhun is a felhunter, a demon. Warlocks can summon demons to help us in battle. Just like mages can summon elementals and death knights summon the dead,” Lizabetha explained. Ti'Grenna seemed happy with that and we continued on our way.  
Something Lizabetha had said puzzled me and I asked her about it.  
“What did you mean about death knights summoning the dead?”  
“Didn’t you know? They use a similar spell to the one I just used and summon a body from the grave to fight at their side.”  
I shuddered in disgust. I couldn’t believe that Nerissina or Gillaen would do that. And yet... I’d seen the way they behaved when the hunger controlled them. Anything was possible. I guess I really didn’t know them that well any more.  
“I’m sorry, Arrentai, I assumed you knew.”  
I shook my head and walked on in silence lost in my thoughts. Considerately Lizabetha left me in peace and distracted Ti’Grenna from pestering me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyletoruse and Perriiov belong to my sons. The others belong to me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when death knights get bored?

Gillaen 

Whoever thought it was a good idea to send so many death knights to Tol Barad should have had their head examined. Within a matter of weeks we had the situation under control with Horde and Alliance both controlling part of the island in an uneasy truce. As for the prison on the southern part of the island, well no one really wanted to go there. The only prisoners, three massive demons, were sealed into their cells with so many magic seals and locks that there was no chance of them escaping. And if they did manage to get past that lot there was the matter of their size, the prison had been built round them leaving doorways that were only large enough for normal sized people like us or members of the horde. They’d have to destroy the walls themselves to escape.

Anyway both we and the horde kept away apart from occasional skirmishes to consolidate our positions. Most fighting there was done by groups of adventurers challenging each other to war games. As if war could ever be seen as a game. They had no idea what it was really like.

So most of the time was spent sitting around our barracks doing very little and that is never a good idea for people who exist only to kill. It didn’t take long for us all to be practically at each other’s throats and fights were always breaking out. I tried to keep myself under control by going out each day to kill the huge spiders that infested the centre of the northern island, but it wasn’t really enough. They didn’t present much of a challenge and barely took the edge off my hunger.

The commander of our garrison, a career soldier who’d risen through the ranks, had been in Tol Barad a long time. He was accustomed to running the garrison, but he had no idea how to deal with death knights. After one particularly bad outbreak of fighting he called all the platoon leaders together and gave us all a lecture on our inability to control our troops. I struggled to keep calm as I listened, and looking around me I could see that the other death knights were just as troubled. Those who weren’t death knights were calmer but equally concerned. We all knew that trying to exert discipline over us wasn’t going to work. We needed to fight, against opponents that would give us a challenge. Someone had to say something. So I did.

I strode across the room to his desk, slammed my hands down on the bare wood and leant forward to glare at him.

“Listen to me, you ignorant bastard,” I snapped. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You have no idea how to handle us. Punishing us, locking us up, is not the answer. We need to fight. It’s what being a death knight is. If we can’t fight we’ll go crazy, be completely out of control. Do you really want that? You don’t have enough other troops to deal with that.”

He was silent as I straightened and stepped back. Not waiting to see if he would answer I turned and strode out, slamming the door behind me. I was shaking with barely controlled anger and afraid of doing something I’d later regret.

I headed out of the garrison and crossed the nearest bridge to the central area where I attacked the nearest spider savagely. Eventually I calmed enough to realise that I was not alone. Another death knight, a slender sin’dorei with brown hair tied up in a tail on the top of his head, was doing the same as I. I paused for a moment to look at him, realising that he seemed familiar. Pulling his sword free from his prey he grinned at me.

“Not the same as killing the Lich King,” he commented.

“True,” I agreed, “but better than killing an ignorant commander who doesn’t understand death knights.”

“You too?”

I nodded.

He looked past me toward the hill at the top of which was the bridge that led to the south island. A group of riders were making their way up there.

“Maybe that is the answer,” he mused.

“Huh?”

“The war games. Our death knights against yours.”

I liked the idea. It would give us all the chance to work off our aggression and get our hunger under control. Best of all, as far as our commanders were concerned, none of us would die thanks to the rules of the war games. Tyriyan and I worked out the details then headed back to our respective garrisons to organise groups. I didn’t bother informing the commander what I was planning in case he tried to stop us. I was likely going to be in a lot of trouble anyway after the way I’d spoken to him. There was no point in looking for more.

As evening drew in we gathered at the bridge waiting for the gates to open. The horde team had won the previous battle, meaning that Tyriyan’s group had the defensive position. It didn’t matter to us, so long as we could fight until we were too exhausted to go on we’d be content.

We fought through the night and well on into the next day. Thanks to the magic governing the war games we could fight almost to the point of death before being removed from the battle and healed. For us it was the ideal solution. We could give in to our hunger, let it take control until it was sated. In the end it didn’t matter that our opponents weren’t actually dying, hell, we were technically dead anyway, what mattered to us was the pain, the damage we inflicted.

Eventually the battle ended and to this day I have no idea who won. Everyone had had the chance to fight and it was exhausted, much calmer soldiers that crossed back over the bridge, Alliance and Horde side by side. We were all members of the Ebon Blade, at that moment faction was irrelevant. All that was important was that we had dealt with our unique problems in the most practical way possible.

Tyriyan and I were the last to leave. As we reached the end of the bridge and the parting of our ways he grinned at me and said, “Same time next week,” as though we were arranging a tea party rather than a battle.

I laughed and nodded. “You’re on,” I said.

In the end I didn’t have any more trouble from the commander. Someone must have persuaded him that my solution to our problems was the best option in the long run and he let us go on with it.

I’d often wondered what would become of us if ever we succeeded in ridding our world and Outland of all the Scourge. What place would there be for people who needed, existed only to kill. Always we had been treated with suspicion if not outright hostility even from our own factions. In times of relative peace we would be a liability that no one would want. I couldn’t see us being welcome in our cities any more than we were now. Would this be our ultimate destiny, condemned to fighting endless war games to preserve our sanity until we tired of it and chose to end our existence? It was a bleak future and not one that I desired.

We were on Tol Barad for several months in the end, months of boredom, lightened only by our weekly war games. I don’t think there was a man or woman amongst us who was not happy when we were given the order to return to Stormwind.

We were expecting to sail back so it was quite a surprise to be told that a portal would be opened for us. I knew there were portals available for the adventurers that visited the islands, but it never occurred to me that we could use them too.

We were sent through the portal a platoon at a time. I held mine back until last, wanting to be sure there was no trouble. So I allowed them to take their ease out of the way while I stood watching the portal and the mages who worked it. I was admittedly curious, I’d not used them often; in fact the last time was back in Icecrown. Judging by the number of mages required, working in frequently changing teams, the magic involved was considerable and draining on them, especially with a portal this large. I’d never had much of an opinion for mages before. Now, seeing the strain this put on them, I found a new respect.

Most of the platoons had gone through and I’d just ordered mine to get ready when I saw two great cats bound across the open ground, one white striped, the other dark mottled, before being called to order by a piercing whistle. They stopped and retraced their tracks to join a group of mages standing to one side of the portal. Curiously I walked towards them. The cats were obviously hunter pets, not mere companions like Nerissina’s raven or the little bird that I’d acquired from Outland on one of our tours of duty. I wondered what they were doing accompanying mages. I soon got my answer.

Amongst the group were two kaldorei that I recognised, the white haired huntress Maelinastra who’d fought alongside me at Icecrown, and with her the blue haired mage whose name I couldn’t recall who had made the portal to take her to Darnassus in an attempt to save her life. I was glad to see that she’d survived and recovered.

She looked past her companions and noticed me approaching. She smiled and came towards me.

“Gillaen, it’s good to see you. I hadn’t realised you were here. Are you going home?”

I nodded. “Yes. We’ve been here too long. We need a break from this boredom.”

“That bad?”

“For death knights, yes. We nearly had a riot, it got so bad.”

“I heard about that. The war games were a good idea.”

“It was that or murder the commander. I didn’t think that would look good back home.”

She laughed. “We’ve been here several times. Joss has been helping with the portals and I’ve been hunting spiders. You get surprisingly good skins from them. But now we’re going home too, back to Teldrassil.”

Our conversation was interrupted then as my platoon was called to go through the portal. With a brief farewell to Maelinastra I followed them, stepping out into the cool air of Stormwind.

There was a message waiting for me from Arrentai saying that he needed to see Nerissina and asking me to bring her to the Pig and Whistle as soon as possible.  


	11. Chapter 11

Arrentai 

It took us nearly three days to reach Karnum’s Glade, camping by the roadside overnight with Lizabetha’s felhunter keeping guard. Ti’Grenna, once she got over the shock of Perriiov’s duplicity, became her usual garrulous self. I on the other hand was even more quiet than usual, trying to make sense of what Lizabetha had told me. It sounded so unbelievable.  I could just about understand death knights doing that while under the control of the Scourge. They had done far worse, I knew.  But to have free will and still willingly drag a body from its resting place to fight for you? I couldn’t comprehend that at all. More than ever I knew I needed to talk to Nerissina face to face. Yet how could I? I had no idea where she was. If she was still in Tol Barad I couldn’t go there; I wasn’t strong enough. And if she’d returned then she was obviously still avoiding me.

Lizabetha and I shared a tent at night but that was all. I wanted more but until I had resolved the situation with Nerissina I would not act upon my desire. My honour and my conscience would not permit it.

The druids of the Cenarion Circle at Karnum’s Glade welcomed us. There was plenty we could do; and we wasted no time in making ourselves useful. I threw myself wholeheartedly into the work so that I was too exhausted to think about anything else. I couldn’t go on like that indefinitely though and eventually Lizabetha spoke up. As we sat at our supper one evening she asked me,

“When did you last see your daughter, Arrentai?”

I looked up and stared at her in silence for a long moment.

“I can’t remember,” I said at last. “Too long.”

“You should go home,” she told me. “Spend some time with her. Try to settle things with Nerissina. You can’t go on like this; it’s hurting you too much.”

She was right, I had to admit. I missed Taliesa so much. She was growing so quickly and I was missing her childhood. I’d missed her early years and now I was in danger of missing the rest. There would be time enough for exploring the world when she was older.

“Come with me,” I suggested. I didn’t want to lose Lizabetha. Already I knew I wanted her to be part of my future.  She smiled and nodded.

The next day we told Ti’Grenna of our plans and asked what she wanted to do. She couldn’t come to Darnassus with us; they’d never allow a goblin to live there even if she was Steamwheedle and not Horde. I needn’t have worried; she had her own plans. She was going to work her way through Stonetalon and the Barrens until she reached Ratchet. Then she was going to sail back to Booty Bay. She hadn’t given up on her dream of becoming a mage; she was just going to put it off for a while until she could afford to pay for her training. We wished her well; I hoped she would be successful.

We didn’t waste any time. The next morning we left Karnum’s Glade and started riding northwards towards the pass at Tethris Aran. I chose a route through Stonetalon Mountains that avoided as much as possible the Horde outposts there. Nevertheless that part of our journey was not without incident.

As we rode through Windshear Crag we came upon a lone orc; a young female. She’d obviously been hunting some of the local wildlife for she had a bundle of skins with her and fresh meat. I was prepared to leave her in peace and go on our way for she was doing no harm. Lizabetha on the other hand just saw her as yet another murdering orc and immediately went on the offensive. Before I could stop her she ordered Jhaadhun to attack and began casting some pretty lethal looking spells.

The felhunter, moving with considerably more speed than its usual amble, dashed in and started attacking the orc. She tried her best to fight it off with the twin blades she carried, but was not strong enough to have much effect on its tough hide. She fought bravely but was no match for either the demon or the vengeful warlock at my side and she quickly weakened. I could see the pain on her face as she sank to her knees but she never cried out.

I couldn’t watch any more.

“Enough!” I said, interrupting Lizabetha’s spell. “Stop it, Lizabetha. She’s just a child.”

“She’s an orc!” she spat out. “A filthy killer.”

“No,” I insisted. “Look at her. You told me it was a squad of soldiers who killed your family. She’s no soldier.”

Lizabetha let her hands drop to her sides and gave a command to Jhaadhun. The demon let the orc go but stood guard over her.

“They killed my children,” Lizabetha whispered anguished.

“I know, but killing one of their children won’t bring yours back. It makes you no better than them. Show her mercy. Let her go.”

For a moment she hesitated then with a gesture she called the felhunter back to her side. “I don’t know what to do any more,” she said, and I could hear the terrible grief in her voice. “Help me please, Arrentai.”

I reached out my hand to gently touch her shoulder in reassurance; then I turned to look at the orc. She hadn’t moved; she just knelt there watching us.

“You’re free to go,” I said quietly. “We won’t hurt you anymore.”

I wasn’t sure if she even understood me. I knew next to nothing about orcs. Maybe not all of them spoke or understood common tongue. I dismounted.  Moving slowly with my empty hands held out I walked towards her. She stared defiantly at me but made no effort to get away. I pointed to her then back in the direction of the Horde’s Krom’gar Fortress. She obviously understood that. She shook her head and looked down. I followed her gaze; the leg of her trousers was soaked with blood. She couldn’t stand; Jhaadhun had done some serious damage.

“Let me help,” I said gently. Kneeling I examined the wound. It was deep enough to have damaged some blood vessels. Slipping my bag from my shoulder I pulled out a length of bandage and bound up her leg. I glanced up at her face. I wouldn’t have said before that day that an orc could turn pale but she had. She looked as though she was about to pass out. We couldn’t leave her like that; it was growing dark and she could fall prey to one of the beasts that prowled these mountains. I made the decision that we would stay there with her for the night. Quickly gathering some fallen wood I built a fire. The orc eased closer, lay down with her head pillowed on the bundle of skins and closed her eyes. Lizabetha dismounted and joined me. Making sure my horse was safely tethered so it wouldn’t wander in the night I prepared a simple meal. Lizabetha’s horse needed no such restraint; soul-bound to her it would not leave her side unless she dismissed it.

 As we ate I studied the orc. I’d no way of telling her age; but as I’d pointed out to Lizabetha she was obviously barely out of childhood. The tusks that all orcs had were, on her, small, hardly there. Her hair, loose on her shoulders, was dark, almost the colour of plums. She wore simple leather armour such as that which I made, but hers was old, well-worn, ill fitting, apparently second hand. Kit settled down near the fire to chew on a piece of dried meat I gave him. Lizabetha sat close to me. She hadn’t spoken since her plea for my help. I put my arm round her shoulder and drew her close, feeling her trembling as she began to weep. I hoped that she had at last purged her need for vengeance before it could destroy her.  Eventually she slept leaning on my shoulder; I gently settled her with her head resting on a bag and wrapped her cloak round her. I didn’t sleep; I was wary about our position. Out in the open we were vulnerable to attack by predators so I shifted to worgen form to give me the heightened senses that would warn me more easily of danger. Towards dawn I dozed a little but not so deeply that I was unaware of the forests around us.

As the sun rose I became aware that the orc had woken and was watching me. She looked confused at my change of appearance. Slowly I shifted back and smiled reassuringly at her. She sat up and fed some fresh wood to the smouldering fire before taking a piece of meat from her bag and setting it over the flames to roast.

“Do you understand me?” I asked and she nodded.

“I don’t mean you any harm. You are free to go whenever you choose.”

“She hates me.” Her voice was quiet, soft, at odds with her savage appearance.

“She has reason. Her whole family was slaughtered by an orc raiding party. She sees you all as responsible.”

“I have not yet been in battle.”

“I understand that; I will make her understand.”

Lizabetha stirred then; waking and sitting upright. I turned and watched her. She looked at the orc as though she hadn’t expected to see her still there.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“I’m Cristelle Trueblade, daughter of Nerolie Trueblade of Razor Hill. My mother is a shaman and has power among our people.”

I understood the warning she was giving me. Yet I did not need it. I’d already made my decision. I knew little about orcs; but I did know that they had a tradition of shamanism that went back long before their corruption by the burning legion and their coming to Azeroth. Shaman worked with the forces of nature and were every bit as powerful as the warlocks who called upon demonic powers to serve them.

“Were you at Krom’gar?” I asked.

She nodded. “I was sent out to hunt for food for our fighters. The commander said I wasn’t ready to fight yet.”

She turned the roasting meat, watching until she was satisfied it was cooked through. Taking a knife from her belt she cut slices from it and held a piece out to me. I took it with a word of thanks and began to eat. I could not have told you what animal it came from but it tasted good. After a moment’s hesitation Lizabetha took the meat offered to her and also began to eat.

”I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you are not responsible for my family’s deaths. I won’t harm you again.”

Cristelle nodded in acknowledgement. “I know,” she replied.

After we’d finished our meal I re-bandaged Cristelle’s leg and helped her to her feet. She was a little unsteady, limping as she tried to walk. I insisted that I would escort her back to her people, letting her ride my horse. As we neared Krom’gar I made Lizabetha stay back out of sight with the horses. If there was trouble I could shift and escape quickly; she could not. I changed to my travel form, that of a stag, and allowed Cristelle to mount me; walking slowly forward along the road as it emerged from the trees.

The fortress was built on the hillside above the forest. As we approached the ramp that led up to it she dismounted and I shifted back to my human form. As I did so I saw the sentries come to attention and draw their weapons. Cristelle saw also and she called out to them in orcish so they did not attack. I saw a leather-clad female come down the ramp. White haired and older, she looked so much like Cristelle she had to be her mother. Cristelle spoke briefly to her obviously explaining. She then spoke to me in common.

“My thanks for returning my daughter, human,” she said. “Tell your woman I grieve for her family; but such is the nature of war. Too often innocents suffer or die.”

I nodded, watching Cristelle as she limped towards her mother; then I turned and walked away. No one pursued me and I returned to Lizabetha to continue our journey.

Not stopping except to rest ourselves and the horses it nonetheless took us several weeks to reach Darkshore. In Lor’danel we went to the inn where I arranged to have my horse stabled and cared for. Then we flew on to Darnassus. Lizabetha had never been there before and she looked about with interest as we walked through the streets towards the district of the Howling Oak. A few people greeted me as we neared my home, but we didn’t stop to talk. Now we were so close I was impatient to get there.

The area was as busy as ever with the Gilneans who lived there going about their daily business. We’d almost reached the street where my house was when I heard a childish voice shriek out, “Daddy!”

I was almost knocked flying by the small tornado that bowled into me. I caught Taliesa up in my arms and held her close until she wriggled to be put down. She looked up at Lizabetha curiously.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m Taliesa. Who are you?”

“This is my friend Lizabetha,” I told her. “She’s going to stay with us for a while.”

“Okay,” Taliesa replied with ready acceptance. Clinging tightly to my hand she walked beside me, chattering non-stop. Our first stop was Amalie’s home to tell her that I was home and to collect Taliesa’s belongings. Lizabetha had been silent since Taliesa joined us and now, in the street again, I stopped to look at her. I cursed myself for my thoughtlessness. Here was I joyfully reunited with my daughter; she could never see her children again. Her tear-filled eyes met mine and she attempted to smile.

“I’ll be all right,” she said softly. “I knew what to expect; I made the choice to come with you.”

Taliesa gazed thoughtfully at Lizabetha then releasing my hand she took hers instead. I watched them silently. After a moment Lizabetha smiled at my daughter and allowed herself to be led on. I breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment I’d feared that I’d made a terrible mistake in bringing Lizabetha here; but Taliesa in her innocence had made it right.

When we reached home I unlocked the door and Taliesa hurried inside, eager to settle back in. I looked at Lizabetha.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, I am. Please don’t worry, Arrentai. I can’t avoid other people’s children for the rest of my life. I’ll manage.”

Taliesa reappeared. “I’ve put my things away,” she told me. “Now I’m hungry.”

I thanked her, knowing full well I’d have to redo the job later.

“We’ll have to eat out,” I said. “There’s no food in the cupboard.”

 I put my bags in my room, told Lizabetha to leave hers in the corner and we headed out to the nearest inn for our meal. Neither Lizabetha nor I had much to say, but Taliesa more than made up for it. She talked non-stop even while eating. The one thing she didn’t talk about however was her mother. It worried me; was she forgetting about her or was this her way of coping with the separation. I wanted to make things right for all of us; but I didn’t know how. I was afraid that whatever I decided someone was going to get hurt.

Taliesa and I settled back into our old routine and soon it seemed as though I’d never been gone. She happily accepted Lizabetha; going as far as to ask me if she was going to stay with us always. I made no promises; although I would like nothing better, I had no idea how things would go until I could talk to Nerissina. When I checked my mail on that first day back there were several letters from Gillaen; even in Tol Barad he managed to find a way to keep in touch but there was nothing from Nerissina. Reading through Gillaen’s letters it became increasingly obvious to me that she was deliberately cutting herself off from us. It made the decision I was getting closer to making easier.

I wrote a letter to the commander of Nerissina’s regiment telling him that I urgently needed to speak to her and asking to be informed when she returned from Tol Barad. I received a reply within a few days telling me that they were due leave and would soon be returning to Stormwind. I resolved to be there when they arrived so Nerissina would have no chance to avoid me. The three of us sailed to the capital and I booked rooms for us in the Pig and Whistle Inn in the old town. We’d been there less than a week when the ships arrived from Tol Barad. I’d left a message for Gillaen asking him to bring Nerissina to the inn without telling her we were there. My brother did his best but somehow she got wind of our plans and refused to leave the barracks. When he told me I lost my temper.

Taliesa had watched him arrive at the inn and greeted him happily. But then she stood there watching the doorway with a confused expression.

“Where’s Mummy?” she asked softly. Gillaen looked at me apologetically.

“I’m sorry, Arrentai,” he said. “She won’t come; she’s so afraid she’ll hurt Taliesa again. She won’t even risk seeing her here.”

“She’ll see us,” I muttered angrily. Catching my tearful daughter up in my arms I marched out of the inn and through the streets to the barrack gates. I was vaguely aware of Gillaen and Lizabetha following. At the gates the sentry recognized me; I could see the dismay on his face. In any other circumstance it would have amused me but I was angry for my daughter’s sake and I wanted to take away her sadness. When I explained the situation the sentry let me in; directing me to the commander’s office. After a brief word with the sentry Gillaen followed me. The commander was sympathetic to us; he had children himself and knew how they missed their parents who were serving away from home. He sent a messenger to summon Nerissina to his office. She may have ignored me and defied Gillaen but she could not disobey a direct order from her commanding officer. She knew why she was being summoned of course. She entered the office and stood there in front of the officer’s desk, ignoring us. It was deliberately calculated to anger me but I refused to rise to the bait.

“Nerissina, I need to talk with you,” I said quietly. “We can’t go on like this. This situation is hurting us all, Taliesa most of all. Is that what you want?”

The officer rose to his feet and walked towards the door. After a brief murmured conversation with Gillaen that I did not catch he left closing the door behind him. My brother moved to stand in front of it; a solid barrier that no one was passing. I stepped towards her and reached out to touch her arm, totally unprepared for her reaction. With an angry snarl she shifted to worgen form and bared her fangs at me. She couldn’t harm me of course; I was already worgen and more than a match for her if it came to a fight. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lizabetha draw Taliesa away, towards my brother’s protection. Gillaen rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it if need be.

“Leave me alone!” she growled. “Take Taliesa back to Darnassus. Keep her away from me. Let your new woman be her mother.”

Behind me I heard Lizabetha’s shocked gasp and Taliesa’s sobs as she began to cry.

“Why, Nerissina?” I asked. “What’s changed you so much?”

She turned to look at me then and I saw the anguish on her face.

“It’s becoming harder to control myself as time passes. I’ve been doubly cursed, Arrentai; Scourge and worgen fight for control of my mind and I don’t know which if any will win. Maybe they’ll destroy me completely. On the battlefield I can just about control it; elsewhere I’m a danger to anyone near me. I can’t; won’t risk harming Taliesa.”

With a superhuman effort she regained enough control to shift back to human form and sank to her knees. She held out her hands to Taliesa. Trustingly our daughter went to her mother’s arms for what I realised would quite possibly be their last embrace. Tears streamed down Nerissina’s face as she tenderly caressed the child. She looked up at Lizabetha with a sad smile.

“Take care of them for me,” she pleaded. She kissed Taliesa and gently untwined the child’s arms from round her neck, giving her a gentle push towards Lizabetha.

“Mummy?” Taliesa was confused; she hadn’t understood Nerissina’s words; couldn’t understand why her mother was rejecting her.

“Go with her, Taliesa,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. “Go with...” “Lizabetha,” I said softly. “Go with Lizabetha, child. She’ll care for you. I can’t any more. Your father will explain when you are older.”

Lizabetha took Taliesa’s hand.

“You have my word,” she said, sounding close to tears herself. She more than any of us understood Nerissina’s grief. Gillaen stood aside to allow them to leave then resumed his place. I helped Nerissina to rise and took her in my arms, realising that I must make my own farewell. I held her close and kissed her tenderly. She responded as best she could with a little of the passion that I remembered from long gone days before we had both changed.

“I’ll always love you,” I whispered. “I know,” she answered softly before she pulled away. She shifted back to worgen form, obviously how she felt most comfortable now and walked towards the door. Gillaen stepped aside now. She glanced back at me briefly; “Be happy, Arrentai,” she said and went out.

After a moment we followed. She hadn’t gone far; she was standing in an area set aside as a graveyard. Quite deliberately she made sure I was watching and began to cast a summoning spell. The ground near her feet began to churn and I stared in horror at what clawed its way out. Once human in form, the creature was decayed, more bones than flesh and clad in rags. Uttering bestial sounds it staggered to Nerissina’s side and gazed up at her. Almost without thinking she lifted her hand and gently caressed its rotting head as she had caressed our child. Nauseated I turned away, hearing my brother swear in disgust. If her intention was to break the last bonds between us then she had succeeded admirably.

There was no sign of Lizabetha and Taliesa; they must have already gone back to the inn. In silence Gillaen escorted me there, found us seats in a quiet corner and went to the bar to buy drinks. He came back with several bottles of cheap strong wine. Instinctively he realised that for that moment I needed the oblivion that alcohol could provide. He poured me drink after drink until reality began to blur and eventually to slip into the blackness of unconsciousness.

I awoke in my bed half-dressed and with the mother of all hangovers. As I tried to sit up my stomach churned rebelliously and I was forced to make use of a conveniently placed bucket. As I fell back weakly on the pillows the door opened and Lizabetha came in. She was carrying a mug of her herbal remedy. I sipped it gratefully as she talked gently. Gillaen had apparently told her what Nerissina had done.

“It was a cruel thing to do,” she commented.

“Effective,” I muttered.” I don’t think I could ever touch her again after seeing that. She treated it like a child.”

Gillaen was not around. After I’d passed out he’d carried me upstairs and put me to bed. Then he’d had to return to the barracks. I asked about Taliesa; Lizabetha told me that my daughter had found a new friend in the innkeeper’s child and they were playing happily together. I was thankful for the resilience of children; hopefully Taliesa would get over the previous day’s events more readily than I ever would.

 Gillaen returned later that evening. I was up and dressed by then, but that was all; I felt terrible despite endless doses of the herbal brew. I hadn’t even been able to eat; just the thought of food made me feel sick. I wouldn’t be drinking like that again.

He told me his news. He’d had a long discussion with the commander on how to deal with Nerissina. In the end it had been decided that she would return to active duty under Gillaen’s direct command for as long as she was able to go on. Then a new decision would be made on her fate. I hated to hear her spoken of like that but I realised it was necessary both for her sake and those about her. If I wanted to see her again I’d have to come to Stormwind.

“Look after her, Gillaen,” I asked. “Keep her safe for us. Maybe one day they’ll find a cure for her; for all of you.”

He nodded, but I realised he wasn’t hopeful. The Scourge’s curse of undeath changed the whole person both physically and mentally. Their body was dead, it wouldn’t age neither would it decay. In theory they could live forever. When raised to the Scourge they lost all their memories and their moral principles. Although those who were redeemed had regained their memories I knew to my cost that they could never again be the person they’d been before death. There were other worgen death knights as there were many of every other race but Gillaen had heard of no other with the problems that Nerissina had. She had just been unluckier than the others. My brother was all too aware that he could easily go the same way, any of them could.

“What will you do now?” he asked me. “Now it’s over with Nerissina? You need someone, little brother. You’ve been alone too long; and Taliesa needs a mother to care for her.”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s Lizabetha. I can’t say I approve of her calling. Warlocks use too much dark magic for paladins to accept; but she’s a lovely girl.”

“Don’t, Gillaen, I’m not ready for that.”

“Just think about it.” He stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I watched him leave; running his words back through my mind. I hadn’t missed the fact that he’d referred to himself as paladin. Even now that was how he wanted to see himself; hated to accept what he’d become; a creature that he would once willingly have killed without a second thought. I wondered if he would ever be reconciled to the life that he now had.

After Gillaen had gone Lizabetha returned and sat beside me. I reached out to gently touch her face, feeling her hair brush my fingers. “Did you mean what you said,” I asked, “when you promised Nerissina that you would care for Taliesa?”

“Yes, I did. I’ll come back to Darnassus with you and stay for as long as you want me. You made me realise there’s more to life than revenge. This is a chance for a new life for me. I’d be a fool not to take it.”

I slipped my fingers behind her head and pulled her closer until I could easily kiss her. As my brother had so bluntly pointed out my relationship with Nerissina was over; she’d made that clear enough. I was free to bring Lizabetha into my life. I knew Taliesa already loved her. As we lay together in bed later I asked her to marry me. She whispered, “Yes.”


	12. Chapter 12

Nerissina

I hated myself for what I’d done to Arrentai and Taliesa. They didn’t deserve that, but I was so afraid of what I might do to them. Even as we’d spoken I was aware of the tenuous grip I had on my self-control.  Gillaen, like most of the other death knights I knew, seemed to have a much better control over his emotions. Except those occasional times when the hunger got the better of him, Gillaen was able to behave like a normal person. I just couldn’t do that. Even the smallest thing could irritate me; make me lose my temper, my self-control. Then people got hurt. And no amount of remorse could make it right.

I’d liked what I’d seen of Arrentai's new friend. She’d be good for him, could give him what I no longer could; would be a proper mother for my precious daughter.  Light knows; I still loved Arrentai, I always would; with my heart and soul; but my body, that was a whole different thing. I remembered how it had been, what it had felt like when Arrentai made love to me; how all my senses had responded to his gentle touch.  Now it was different; although I could still feel something it was not the same, not right. And if I felt that, then so must he. He deserved better.

I knew Arrentai so well; I knew he would not want to give up on me. But I had to make the break clean so he could get on with his life.

Leaving him with Gillaen I went outside; I didn’t go far. To one side of the training ground was a small neglected area that had long ago been used as a graveyard. I waited there knowing that they would have to pass by on their way to the gates. It was not long before they came out. Arrentai, with that sixth sense of his, noticed me straight away, taking a few steps in my direction. I wasted no time. With a muttered apology to the soul I was about to disturb I cast a summoning spell. Behind me I heard the sound of the earth being disturbed as the remains of some poor soldier, the casualty of a long forgotten battle perhaps, dragged themselves from the ground and stumbled, gibbering, to my side.

Gillaen voiced an oath of disgust at me. Arrentai was silent, but through the tears I could not stop from flowing I could see the look of horror on his face. Absently, my eyes never leaving his face, I reached out a hand and rested it on the mindless creature’s tangled, soil coated head, gently caressing it as a few minutes since I had done Taliesa.

Without a word Arrentai turned and strode away. Gillaen shot me a look of pure hatred and followed him. I had succeeded all too well in my intention to make the break complete. Ignoring the mindless mutterings of the hapless undead creature I sank to my knees weeping.

I remained there as it grew dark, largely ignored by anyone who walked past that deserted corner.  The creature I had summoned wandered about for a while; then the enchantment that had called it faded and it sank back into the ground. I scarcely noticed it; lost in my self-pity.

Gillaen found me there when he returned near midnight. Roughly he hauled me to my feet and glared at me.

“Damn it, Neri, why did you have to do that?”

I didn’t answer, didn’t know what to say.

“Come with me,” he said a little less harshly, turning to stride away. I followed him uncertainly. As an officer he had his own private quarters and that’s where he led me. As I entered he had his back to me lighting the oil lamp on his desk.

“I’ve just spent the evening getting my brother drunk to help him forget what he saw; what you did. He knows what we are; he did not need to see that side of us.”

He turned then and looked at me, saw my tear-soaked face; and his expression softened.

“That hurt you as much as him; didn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Neri, Arrentai knew it was over between you when he came here yesterday. He’d already accepted that you could never have a life together; but he needed that final goodbye to be able to move on.”

“I’m sorry; but I had to make him see what I am; to stop him from loving me.”

“He’ll never do that. You’re part of his life, the mother of his child. That can never change. But now he has a chance for a new life. He needed to know he had the freedom to take it.” 

“I’ve really messed things up now, haven’t I?”

I turned away and stared out of the window into the darkness.

“No. He’ll get over it. He’s tougher than you think.”

He came to stand close to me and reached out a hand to gently touch my cheek. It didn’t seem to bother him that I was still in my worgen form.

 “When the men of our family give their love it is forever. Even when it is not returned we can’t easily forget it. Arrentai will never stop loving you, but given time he can find new love with Lizabetha.”

“I hope so,” I whispered. “I want him to be happy.”

Gillaen smiled and bent his head to gently kiss my forehead.

“I think in time he will be,” he said softly.

“But you need to be happy too. I’m not my brother but I’ll do my best for you.”

I looked up at him, met his gaze and saw what must always have been there but I’d been too blind to notice before; the love that he had hidden because I’d chosen Arrentai. Without hesitation I shifted to my human form and gave myself to his embrace. After so long I felt I had found a place for myself; a refuge from the darkness that beset me; a man strong enough to help me face whatever was to come.

Arrentai 

After we’d told Taliesa we began to make our plans. We wanted to marry in Stormwind’s cathedral. There was no church in Darnassus and it was important to both of us.

So a few days later we went to the cathedral to speak to a priest about making arrangements. However it didn’t go as smoothly as I could have hoped. From the start I could see that Lizabetha was anxious; she’d confided to me only that morning that she hadn’t felt able to set foot in a church since the day she’d buried her family. As we walked up the steps to the entrance she clung to my arm and I could feel her trembling.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. “I don’t feel as though I’m welcome here anymore.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because of my demons. They, my magic, go against everything the church teaches. How can I ask the blessing of the Light when I willingly use dark magic?”

I stopped and took her in my arms, oblivious to the people that came and went round us.

“Listen,” I said softly. “Gillaen felt the same as you. He turned away from the Light, did terrible things, much worse than you, but he came here and found peace again. True he doesn’t always feel welcomed by the people, but the Light never turns him away.

“And me… I still don’t remember what I might have done in the dark days when I first became worgen, I don’t think I want to know. But I can still come here and be accepted.

“No matter what we’ve done we can still find acceptance, forgiveness, peace if we only ask for it. Will you try?”

She nodded and looked up at me. Gently I took her hand and with a smile led her inside.

We found a quiet place to sit, to give Lizabetha time to gather her thoughts, to pray, to make her peace with the Light. At one point I saw that she was crying but it seemed more healing than anything. Eventually she fished a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped her face and turned to me with a faint smile.

“I think I’m ready now,” she said softly.

“If you’re sure.”

We found a priest who reassured us that there would be no problem and quickly made the necessary arrangements.

There were not many people we needed to invite. Lizabetha had no family to ask and she’d lost most of her friends when she left the Arathi Highlands to train as a warlock. I sent a message to my mother telling her of our impending marriage but I didn’t know if she’d come or bring my father. I’d not spoken to him since his condemnation of Nerissina. There was my aunt, my father’s sister, and her husband. Their daughter, my cousin Hestia, had married a farmer who lived out at Eastvale and had a young family of her own. And of course Gillaen; I hoped he would find a way to come.

On the chosen day we went to the cathedral not knowing who would be there. It turned out that everyone we’d invited had come. It seemed that my mother had told my father he risked losing what was left of his family if he didn’t become more tolerant and accept the choices I made in my life. I was surprised to see Maelinastra and Josstellan there. Not knowing where they were I hadn’t contacted them but somehow Gillaen had found them and invited them. Gillaen too was there. Just before the ceremony began I noticed two hooded figures enter and stand in the shadows at the back. My brother had come and brought Nerissina with him. Lizabetha noticed my distraction and followed my gaze. With a smile she let me know that she too was happy to see them. They slipped away un-noticed by anyone else at the end of the service, but they knew I’d seen them.

Afterwards we went to the Pig and Whistle for a meal; it was Gillaen’s gift to us. I saw him sitting in the shadows, hooded and anonymous, drinking alone. When he saw me watching he raised his glass in salute to me and I nodded. My mother saw my gesture and followed my gaze.

“Who’s that?” she asked. “A friend?”

“In a way. That’s Nerissina’s senior officer.”

“Why don’t you ask him to join us?”

“He won’t. He’s a death knight and he doesn’t mix with living people. They usually won’t accept him as he is.”

She couldn’t know how I longed to tell her who that really was. Gillaen was taking quite a risk in staying but I could not blame him. He felt so much the outsider now that it was good for him to be near family even if they did not know him. His cover was almost blown at one point. Taliesa, running around with her old playmate and her new found cousins, slipped and fell near him. Instinctively he reached out to help her up and she looked up into his face and recognised him. She gave a squeal of delight, but before she could say more he spoke quietly to her. She gave a mischievous grin, nodded and saluted him as she’d seen the soldiers doing, then she walked away. What had he said to her? Obviously she thought it was a game and she was happy to play along. I knew she’d do anything for her beloved uncle. 

I turned away as Maelinastra spoke to me, my concerns for my brother forgotten for the moment. The ever attentive Josstellan was at her side, but saying little, leaving it for her to speak. We talked awhile about what they’d been doing. After accompanying the enigmatic Kyletoruse on his negotiations with the Alliance leaders they had gone to Tol Barad with the initial expedition. Josstellan had helped to set up the portal there to enable people to travel back and forth between the island and Stormwind. Then they had taken time to travel together going wherever the fancy took them, occasionally returning to Tol Barad to check on things. While there they had briefly met Gillaen which explained how he’d known where to find them. On a more personal level I could tell that my young friends were happy, contented in the love they shared. Maelinastra had a serenity about her and maybe, I suspected, a secret that she was not quite ready to share yet.

All too soon it was evening and my family began to depart. Hestia’s children, younger than Taliesa, were sleepy and she needed to put them to bed. Her family was staying overnight with my aunt and uncle so they all left together. Hestia herself, a soldier in Stormwind’s defence force, had to return to the barracks. I had a brief chat with my parents before they left. My father wasn’t particularly talkative but at least he hadn’t insulted Lizabetha and walked out so I supposed he approved of her. I watched them walk away and disappear round the corner before going back inside the inn. Lizabetha had taken Taliesa upstairs to settle her in bed so I joined Maelinastra and Josstellan who were sitting by the fire; and called Gillaen over to join us. After a moment’s hesitation he did so. He sat down opposite me and put his bottle of wine on the table beside him. I don’t know how much he’d drunk throughout the day; he hadn’t eaten as far as I knew; but he was still stone cold sober. He had a better tolerance for alcohol than I did, that was sure. But maybe that was something to do with being a death knight; he didn’t seem to have the same physical needs as the rest of us; it was more of a matter of personal choice than necessity. He pushed his hood off and stretched out his legs towards the fire. I pushed a leftover plate of cold meat towards him and he began to eat some.

“I’m intrigued,” I said. “What did you tell Taliesa to stop her blurting out your name?”

He grinned mischievously.

“I told her I was on a secret undercover mission for the king. I’d heard there was a spy here and he couldn’t know my name. She thought it was a fine game.”

“I’m glad you came,” I said, “and Nerissina; thank you for bringing her.”

“She sends you her blessing, little brother. She wants you to be happy.”

“I know. I wish she could be happy as well. She is too troubled.”

“It’s difficult knowing how to help her. All I can do is be there to support her at the worse times.”

“If only she could go to Tal’Doren. That’s what helped me the most. But I believe the night elves had to abandon it when we left Gilneas.”

Josstellan nodded his agreement. “It just became too dangerous there, what with the Forsaken and the worgen. We couldn’t ask anyone to stay there. The wells are gone now.”

Gillaen poured himself another drink and lifted the glass. He froze with it halfway to his mouth, staring past me to the door. Slowly I turned, half afraid of what I was going to see. Our mother stood there, a shocked expression on her face. I stood up as she walked forward and guided her to my seat.

“All this time,” she whispered. “They told me you died in battle.”

“I did,” Gillaen said bluntly. “Then the Scourge took my body and turned me into a monster. The army don’t tell people’s families if that happens; it’s not something they’d want to know. Would you have wanted that to be your last memory of me?”

She shook her head. “But you came back.”

“In a way, yes. But I’m still dead. My soul and my memories were returned but not my life. In that sense we are like the Forsaken. They also once served the Lich King. I will never be the son you remember. I can’t be like a normal person. I can never father a child. I have a hunger for killing that I can never be free of and most people still regard us as monsters.”

I was shocked at the bitterness in my brother’s voice; I’d never realised how he felt about his condition. I rested my hand on her shoulder and she looked up at me.

“You saw how Father treated Nerissina. He would have rejected Gillaen the same way. Do you want that?”

“No. Of course not. But you have a child, Arrentai; and Nerissina is a death knight. How is that?”

“Taliesa was conceived while we were both still human and born before Nerissina was taken by the Scourge. That is how.”

I paused giving her time to consider what we’d said.

“It’s up to you if you tell Father. We can’t stop you if that’s your choice. Just bear this in mind. Gillaen has made a new life for himself. We’ve accepted him as part of our family as he is now. Can you honestly say that Father would do the same?”

“No, I can’t,” she said reluctantly. “But I will. You’re my son, Gillaen. I’ll accept you however you are.”

She stood up, took the few steps forward that reached him and bent to kiss him.

“I have to go home before your father wonders where I am,” she said, “but I want to see you again.”

She turned, smiled at the rest of us and hurried out. Half in shock Gillaen downed the wine he still held and put the glass down. He stood up a little unsteadily.

“I need to get back,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I watched him leave. It was a good thing he didn’t have far to go; he was none too steady on his feet now. I turned; Josstellan had come out behind me.

“I’ll see him safely back,” he said, setting off after my brother. When I went back inside Lizabetha had come back down to say that my over excited daughter was finally asleep. She asked where the other two were.

“Joss is seeing Gillaen home,” Maelinastra answered. “He’s rather the worse for wear.”

Lizabetha came to my arms and kissed me. “Come to bed,” she whispered. I glanced at Maelinastra.

“I’ll wait for Joss,” she said. “You go.”

I wasn’t going to argue. Willingly I let Lizabetha lead me upstairs.

We stayed in Stormwind for a few more days after that. My mother came to the inn most days to spend time with us. She told my father she wanted to see me and Taliesa; I knew she also came to see Gillaen. Still on leave he was able to do as he pleased for the moment. Then I’d noticed the Scourge light in his eyes growing brighter and realised he needed to get out of the city and deal with it. I didn’t know this part of our world well enough to know where to take him and I was asking Josstellan’s advice when my brother got into a fight with some soldiers who’d had a little too much to drink. Gillaen fought with the savagery I’d come to recognize as characteristic of the hunger and it took Josstellan, myself and half a dozen other men to subdue him. Thankfully he was unarmed; death knights serving in the army had of late been forbidden to carry weapons within the city limits; or there would have been more serious casualties. Only after he was restrained and carried off to a cell at the barracks was I able to turn my attention to the rest of my family. Fortunately Maelinastra had realised quickly what was wrong and got them all upstairs where they’d stood watching. Taliesa ran to my arms.

“What’s wrong with Uncle Gillaen?” she asked.

“He’s not feeling too good,” I replied.

“He needs to go fight some bears.” She obviously remembered the incident in Darnassus and my remedy then.

I laughed a little shakily. “I guess he does, but there’s no bears round here so we’ll have to find something else. Now you go and play with your friend. I need to talk to Grandma.”

“Oh, grown up stuff!”

“That’s right.” I watched her run off then turned to my mother; shifting back to human as I did so.

“That is what the Scourge does to people. It turns them into monsters who can’t control their lust for killing. If Gillaen had been armed those men would be dead now; possibly Josstellan and me as well. That is what he wanted to spare you from knowing; why he thought it was best he remained dead to you.”

“I didn’t understand...”

“Not many people do. They see only the monster, not the torment that drives them. I understand a little of what he feels because I was like that when I first became a worgen. But I was able to learn to control myself. He can’t do that.”

“And Nerissina?”

“She’s the same. That is why she can’t be a mother to Taliesa. She is too afraid of harming her. I still love her, I always will; and Lizabetha understands that; but for Taliesa’s sake I could never live with her. Very few redeemed death knights ever contact their families; it’s easier for them that way.”

I turned and walked away. I’d said enough and I needed to be alone. I ended up in a secluded spot by the canals where I sat just watching the play of the light on the water. Lizabetha found me there sometime later; she sat beside me and rested her hand on mine.

“Are you all right?” was all she said.

“I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like I’m all that’s holding this family together. I don’t know how much more I can cope with.”

“Why don’t we go home? Just you, me and Taliesa. Let the army handle Gillaen. You’ve done enough.”

“Have I?” I liked her suggestion though. Maybe it was time to let go of the responsibility. Hand in hand we wandered back to the inn and told everyone what we’d decided.

We left Stormwind at the end of the week along with Maelinastra and Josstellan who were also travelling to Teldrassil. We didn’t see Gillaen again. He and several other death knights who were affected by the hunger to the extent that they were dangerous had been sent out on active duty again. My mother having had to accept that this is how it would be had gone back to her normal life.

For a while we lived quietly, continuing to train and grow stronger and more confident in our abilities. I knew it wouldn’t last forever. On the voyage home Maelinastra and Josstellan had told us more of what was happening. The Horde was becoming more troublesome and their leader becoming more out of control, alienating even his fellow leaders. Our world was inexorably heading for all-out war and no one would be able to stand aside and remain uninvolved.

It was a horrifying prospect.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Arrentai

We had only a few weeks of peace in the end. Just time enough for us to get used to being a family. Taliesa had accepted Lizabetha as her new mother and for the most part she seemed happy. She never talked about Nerissina although I tried to encourage her to do so because we didn’t want her to forget her mother. In the end Lizabetha suggested I just wait until she was ready to talk.

“Give her time,” she said. “At the moment she’s hurting because Nerissina rejected her. She’s still too young to understand why. In time she’ll realise that her mother still loves her and was trying to protect her.”

I hoped she was right. The complications of my family troubled me.

The first we knew in Darnassus of the escalating hostilities was when a messenger arrived from Northwatch Hold. I was down at Rut’theran village; I’d just flown in with a fresh load of skins for my leatherworking and was walking up the hill to the portal when I heard someone call my name. I stopped and turned; it was the flight master Vesprystus.

“Can you hang around a minute; I think we may need you.”

He pointed out to sea; a solitary hippogryph was approaching from the mainland, flying far lower over the waves than was safe. Its wing beats were slow and erratic and it looked as if it was struggling to stay aloft. Vesprystus sent his hippogryphs out to escort it, but there was little they could do save rescue the rider if he fell.

I set my bundle down and stood beside him, watching. The exhausted beast reached shore at last, coming in low, barely missing a collision with the arches of the pier. It made a valiant effort to land near us, but at the last it misjudged its approach, hit the ground heavily and tumbled over and over, throwing off its rider. Vesprystus ran to the hippogryph, I ran to the rider.

He lay unmoving where he had fallen and for a moment I thought he was unconscious. His clothes, the livery of Northwatch’s garrison, were filthy, torn, stained with blood. I gently touched his shoulder and his eyes flickered open and met mine.

“Northwatch has fallen to the Horde,” he gasped. “They’re moving on Theramore.”

I looked up at the harbourmaster as he approached. From his shocked expression he’d obviously heard.

“You get up to Darnassus, to the temple, and tell them,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do for him.”

Without a word he continued up the hill and disappeared through the portal. I turned my attention back to the messenger. He was fortunate; his injuries were minor and easily tended; but he was exhausted. I called a nearby villager to me and between us we helped the man to his feet and aided him to walk uphill to the portal. He needed rest and food; but he would also need to make a fuller report of what he had told us.

 Cordressa Briarbow, a sentinel from the Temple of Elune, was waiting when we stepped out of the portal in Darnassus. She dismissed the villager with a word of thanks, but did not try to do the same with me. She knew that as a healer I would not leave the man until I was satisfied with his care. We took him to the nearest inn and settled him in a quiet room. While I set about tending his injuries Cordressa questioned him, so I heard all he said.

The Horde had advanced on Northwatch by sea and by land from Mulgore and Durotar; and attacked the fortress. They’d destroyed the buildings and slaughtered the garrison, leaving scarcely anyone alive. Just a handful had survived, including the messengers that had been sent out to bear the news. Now the Horde were amassing ready to attack the island of Theramore. The man had flown direct across Kalimdor and up the coast stopping only to change his mount when each exhausted beast had been unable to continue. He himself had not rested nor stopped to eat.

When she’d heard all he had to say Cordressa warned me to keep my mouth shut, then she hurried off, presumably to report to Tyrande Whisperwind.

I told him to rest; then left him. I asked the innkeeper to ensure he was left in peace for as long as he needed to rest; then given food when he awoke. I headed back to the portal; I’d left my bundle of skins down at the flight point and needed to fetch them.

Vesprystus was still busy tending the exhausted hippogryph and ignored me. I wandered a little way down the road and for a few moments stood gazing thoughtfully out to sea. When Lizabetha and I had returned to Darnassus it had taken us weeks to ride from Desolace to Darkshore. The messenger had flown from Northwatch Hold, across the Barrens and Stonetalon Mountains and up the coast of Ashenvale and Darkshore in a matter of days; and all the time needing to avoid any Horde settlements and patrols along the way. No wonder he was exhausted.

I turned and collected my bundle before heading back into the city. It was near dusk when I reached home. Lizabetha made a brief comment about how late I was but didn’t ask why for which I was grateful. I didn’t know how I’d be able to tell her about Northwatch. I was distracted, deep in thought. If the Horde had been preparing to attack Theramore when the messenger left, had they already done so? It was a heavily fortified place I knew; but then so had Northwatch been and that had fallen. It took so long for news to reach us that it could be over before we heard anything. I slept little that night, and at first light I headed back to the inn where we’d left the messenger. I wanted to check that he was recovering.

I met Cordressa at the door and one look at her face told me she’d received bad news. We went in and, early as it was, I bought a bottle of wine and guided her to a quiet corner table. She downed the glass I poured her and looked at me. Everything the messenger had said last night had been confirmed; Northwatch had fallen with almost total loss of the garrison, and a massive army of Horde of every race was gathering round Theramore on land and sea, but hadn’t as yet attacked. They were waiting for something, but what? So far the outposts of Fort Triumph, Forward Command and Honor’s Stand hadn’t been attacked, but how long would they be left untouched? Varian Wrynn had called for the Alliance to join together in the defence of Theramore and a fleet was amassing ready to sail.

“The sentinels have been ordered to join the fleet heading for Theramore,” she told me.  “Our general, Shandris Feathermoon is going to lead them. I only hope they get there in time.”

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

“Yes. The Horde wants to push us out of Kalimdor. If they take Theramore all the other Alliance settlements are at risk. They’ll be able to pick them off one by one. Then Teldrassil itself will be at risk. We have to stop them.”

She poured a second glass of wine and sat staring into it.

“All we can do here is wait for news and be prepared to defend ourselves.”

After some moments she drank the wine and stood up.

“Keep an eye on the messenger. Make sure he’s all right. I have to organise our defences in case the worst happens.”

She walked out, leaving me to finish my drink and see to my patient. After a few minutes I went up to his room. As I entered he was just waking. For a moment he looked confused; then he remembered what had happened. He sat up and attempted to get up but sank back wearily.

“Rest, friend,” I told him. “Your news has been passed on. You don’t need to do more.”

I told him what Cordressa had told me. I figured he at least had a right to know. He listened in silence.

“I should go back,” he said quietly. “They’ll need every man they can get to defend Theramore.”

“You need to recover your strength first,” I told him. “You’d be no use as you are now. Rest and let your injuries heal; then maybe we can arrange to get you there. I’ve done what healing I can but you still need time.”

He nodded, realising the truth of what I said. I understood how he felt; I was no fighter, but I felt I should volunteer to go as a healer. The one thing stopping me was my family; I’d spent so much time away from Taliesa in the last few months that I really didn’t want to leave her again.

 I left the messenger, Marriss, to rest and headed back home. Lizabetha was waiting for me; she had realised something was up and she wanted to know what.

“All the sentinels have been gathering at the Warrior’s terrace since first light,” she told me.

“Do you know what’s going on? Is it something to do with that messenger that arrived yesterday, the one you’ve been looking after?”

I stared at her in amazed silence for some moments; how on earth had she found that out? I’d followed Cordressa’s orders and said nothing.

“I have a friend who works at that inn near the portal. She told me about it.”

I sat down and looked up at her.

“Everyone will know soon enough,” I said slowly, “but you’d best not talk about it yet. The messenger came from Northwatch. It’s fallen to the Horde and they’re heading for Theramore next. Some of our sentinels are going to join the Alliance fleet to defend Theramore; the others are going to make sure Teldrassil is protected.”

“Oh, Arrentai,” she murmured. “Has it come to that? Does Hellscream mean to bring the world to all-out war?”

“I’m afraid he does. He wants Kalimdor for the Horde and he’ll stop at nothing to get it.”

I wouldn’t voice my worst fear; that the Horde wanted to wipe the Alliance off the face of the whole world; yet it was there at the back of my mind.

“You want to go, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I feel I should. I can help as a healer.”

“I can’t stop you, I know. But, Arrentai, please don’t go to Theramore. It’s too dangerous. Go to one of the outposts; help from there.”

“If that’s what you want; I’ll speak to Cordressa. She’ll know where would be best to go.”

I drew her close and kissed her.

“Thank you for understanding,” I said softly.

“I’m coming with you,” she said suddenly.

“What? No! You need to stay here with Taliesa.”

“Arrentai, you need someone to watch out for you while you’re working. I can do that. Taliesa will be fine with Amalie.”

I shrugged. I knew I’d never win an argument with Lizabetha when she’d made her mind up. Together, while Taliesa was at her lessons, we went to speak to Cordressa. By then she’d briefed the sentinels and they were busy making their preparations. She agreed with Lizabetha that we’d be more use at one of the outposts so that casualties could be treated away from the centre of battle. Forward Command would be the best place, she said; it was away from the battle or any routes the Horde were likely to use so would be a safe place to treat casualties before they were sent further away.

We went home to make our preparations and within half a day we were on our way. We travelled by hippogryphs following much the same route that Marriss had taken in his flight from Northwatch. With us we carried as many medical supplies as the hippogryphs could carry and just one bag of essentials each for ourselves. Stopping to change mounts when we needed at flight points along the way we made good time and reached there in a little over a week.

We were welcomed by the man in charge, Ambassador Gaines. There was no military commander. General Hawthorne, we were told, had been captured and killed by the indigenous quilboar some months ago and had not yet been replaced. Forward Command was basically a military encampment, not a permanent settlement. As a result they had little in the way of medical facilities and only a single healer. We were introduced to him; a trooper named Matthews who’d had a little medical training. He showed us around the camp and explained how things were done; then he told us what tent we could use and left us to get settled. There was little for us to do other than ensure our supplies were ready for use; we’d be kept busy enough once casualties started arriving.

Within twenty-four hours the first reports of conflicts came in. The Horde, crossing the Barrens from their fortress of Desolation Hold, attacked Fort Triumph on their way to Theramore. They were ruthless, slaughtering most of the garrison, abandoning the few survivors to the mercies of weather and wildlife. Those few were brought to us by the aerial patrollers who had escaped the massacre simply because they were out on patrol at the time. Matthews and I treated them the best we could before they were then transported to a safer place at Honor’s Stand near the border with Stonetalon Mountains. Lizabetha had little healing skill but she kept us supplied with her herbal potions.

We had a temporary respite but knew there would be worse to come. Theramore was a much larger place than Fort Triumph with a correspondingly larger population including civilians and children. It was well fortified and situated on an island; but the Horde had demonstrated their determination and I had no doubt that they could wreak havoc.

Refugees and casualties from the settlements that dotted Dustwallow Marsh trickled in telling tales of the Horde’s atrocities. But none came from Theramore itself. Jaina Proudmoore had ordered the gates to be sealed and the fortress was prepared for a siege. The patrollers reported that the Alliance fleet had arrived to take on the Horde ships. Ambassador Gaines ordered them to continue observing, not to join in the battle. They would be better use as couriers, observers, transport. He sent them out to gather any sentries, patrollers or stray civilians still to be found in the Barrens; they’d be safer all gathered together.

The walls of Theramore proved strong enough to hold the Horde back and we thought maybe they had given up when they retreated; we were wrong. The patrols reported that groups of sentinels and warriors had left Theramore, heading into the marsh, seeming to be searching for something. While they were gone a Horde airship had flown in over the fortress carrying beneath it a massive bomb.

We felt the detonation as far as Forward Command, shaking the ground and stampeding the wildlife. In the sky over Theramore a huge cloud of dust and fel energy hung menacingly. The patrollers couldn’t get close to see what had happened; their hippogryphs refused to go near. We knew then that there would be no casualties from Theramore for us to treat; there was no longer any Theramore. All those people that had made it a community were no more.

The sentinels and warriors who had left before the explosion eventually found their way to us before going on their way back to Teldrassil and Dalaran. Lizabetha and I stayed; even now I felt I might be of some use.  The Horde outposts throughout the Barrens were a serious threat to what was left of the Alliance here.

A force from Desolation Hold attacked us and we fought them off, but many of our soldiers were injured. I went out from the camp to help, going from one to another, giving initial healing to stabilise them before they were moved to safety. There were a few orc casualties as well and I aided them too although I knew it would earn me censure from the officers at the camp. But I couldn’t leave a wounded man, be he human or orc, to suffer untended.

Intent on my work I never noticed the solitary orc watching from a clump of trees until he shot me. The bullet tore into my left shoulder, the same that Maelinastra had shot, hitting the bone and shattering it. I turned, intending to head back to the camp; but I stumbled and fell. Unable to break my fall I landed on the injured shoulder and lay semi-conscious beside the man I’d been tending.

Vaguely, as if in a dream, I was aware of an orc mounted on a massive grey wolf riding up, grabbing me from the ground and draping me across the beast before riding off. I had no idea where he was taking me or why. Eventually he stopped and I was dropped painfully to the ground. I looked around as best I could; I was in some kind of structure with high surrounding walls, but open to the sky; probably Desolation Hold I guessed. Then I was surrounded by several heavily armoured orcs. Voicing what sounded like abuse in their harsh native orcish one of them kicked me viciously several times, encouraged by his companions. It only ended when a female voice snapped out an order. With an angry snarl my tormentor stopped and stepped back. I heard arguing between the two of them then I passed out.

I awoke in a cell. I was in agony; it felt as though several of my ribs were broken making it hard to breathe easily. There was no way I could do anything about it; healing would expend more energy than I could summon at that moment and would leave me too weak. Surrounded as I was by stone I couldn’t feel the connection to nature that would allow me to draw on the strength I needed. I took a breath and began to cough, feeling consciousness slipping away. I heard a sound nearby and made the effort to open my eyes again. An orc sat nearby watching me, a white haired female. As I began to focus clearly I realised that I knew her, Nerolie Trueblade, mother of the young orc I’d healed in Stonetalon and returned to her people. She couldn’t know me though; she’d only seen me as human, now I was worgen. If I tried to shift I’d lose the extra strength that this form gave me and I couldn’t afford that.

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with,” I whispered painfully.

“We may let you live, worgen,” she replied, “if you prove to be useful. We want information. You can give it to us.”

“I know nothing. I’m just a healer.”

“Then you are no use.”

“I guess not.” I wasn’t going to beg for my life, though that’s what she clearly expected. I closed my eyes and ignored her, trying to find just enough strength to simply ease my pain a little. It didn’t work. I heard her move; felt her place her hand on my chest, felt the warmth as she used healing on me, just enough to reduce the pain.

“When you tell us something useful I will heal you a little more,” she said.

“I don’t know anything. We heard that Hellscream was preparing to attack Theramore and we volunteered to come here as healers. But I haven’t been near Theramore. I was at Forward Command.”

“The camp near the Great Divide?”

“Yes.”

She waved a hand dismissively.

“They’re of no consequence, no threat to us. But you; a healer; they will miss you. You heal our enemies so they can fight again.”

“That’s my job; yours too, shaman.”

“So, you know what I am; you know that I could heal you or just as easily turn my power against you, stop your heart just like that.”

She snapped her fingers.

I closed my eyes; I was growing weaker and struggling to stay conscious.

“Who came with you?” she asked abruptly. “You said we. Another healer?”

“No. My wife; she’s a herbalist; makes our medicines.”

“You’re what?  Druid? Priest? What is she?”

“Warlock,” I barely managed to whisper as I lost consciousness.

She was there again when I awoke and had I think done some more healing on me. My chest was less painful; it no longer felt as though my ribs were digging into my lungs every time I took a breath. My shoulder felt a little easier, the bullet was gone, but it would take time for the shattered bone to knit.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I’d have done that sooner if you’d told me who you were.”

“Oh?”

“You were in Stonetalon earlier this year. A worgen druid travelling with a human warlock. My daughter recognised you. You could have let your woman kill my daughter and no one would have known. Yet you stopped her; made her see reason; and healed my daughter. For that I am grateful.”

“I had no quarrel with her; she was an innocent child; not one of the war party that killed Lizabetha’s family. She understood that when I explained it. She was hurting because all her family had been killed, even her children. She wanted revenge.”

“I understand that. My mate died in battle before Cristelle was born; at Blackrock Spire. I too wanted to kill those I held responsible. He was a great warrior and a good mate; even with the blood curse on him. I’ve never found another to equal him. You are fortunate that you still have your woman. Do you have any children?”

“I have a daughter, but Lizabetha is not her mother. She too died in battle; against the Scourge.”

Nerolie nodded thoughtfully, understanding what I did not say; then changed the subject.

“I’ve been told that you healed some of our soldiers who were injured when they attacked your camp.”

“They needed help,” I said. “I’ll heal anyone who needs it no matter what race, friend or foe.”

She grinned, baring a mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

“That must get you into trouble sometimes. I’ve never before healed an enemy; but then I’ve also never harmed one; until now.  I’ve discussed you with my commander and told him you have no useful information.”

“So now he wants me killed; and you to do it.”

“Yes.”

“Get it over with then.”

“I’m not going to kill you. I owe you a life and I at least have honour when it comes to paying a debt. I will return you to your woman.”

“How will you do that?”

“Leave that to me. Just keep quiet and go along with what I do. If he learns what I intend he’ll kill us both; and I’m not ready to die yet.”

 “Thank you.”

“Consider my debt to you paid. If I meet you again after this you will be just another enemy and I will kill you.”

I nodded. She arose and walked to the door, speaking to someone outside before coming back to my side.

“Come then.”

Without further warning she hauled me to my feet by my injured arm and dragged me out of the cell. Dizzy from the pain and dazzled by bright sunlight I made no effort to struggle. She stopped in the middle of the enclosure and pushed me up against a post. I knew she had to make it believable but she didn’t have to look as if she was enjoying it so much. There were several orcs hanging around. She called out something in her own language and some of them laughed.

“Keep still,” she hissed under her breath as she drew a long lethal looking knife.

“Orc scum,” I spat at her and she laughed. Pressing the point against my chest she thrust suddenly. I felt it penetrate, barely missing my heart and lung. She’d aimed well. With a gasp of pain I collapsed forward against her feeling my body go numb, unable to move. She must have smeared the blade with a paralysing drug I realised; Cristelle had trained as a rogue I’d guessed, she could have got it from her. I heard her voice call out again as darkness overwhelmed me.

I roused a little to find myself slung face down over a swiftly running wolf in front of the rider.

“Not a sound,” Nerolie whispered. “They’re watching us.”

I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out in pain as each movement sent fresh agony through my shattered shoulder.

At last Nerolie pulled the wolf to a halt.

“Alliance!” she called out in common tongue. ”I’ve brought your healer back to you. Let this be a warning to you. We will not tolerate your presence here! The Barrens are ours.”

She lowered her voice. “Good fortune, worgen. I’m going to drop you now. Don’t make a sound or we’ll both die.”

She let me slip to the ground, breaking my fall as much as she dared. Then after a moment or two she rode away. I hoped her deceit had worked and she didn’t get into trouble for sparing me. I’d decided I quite liked her; for an orc she was very human.

Unable to move, I lay there feeling the warm sun on my body, drawing strength from the life around me. At last I could ease my pain; soon maybe I could speed up my healing.

I heard someone approaching and I felt them lift me up and carry me back to the camp. I was laid on a bed and heard voices talking nearby; one was Lizabetha.

“How could they do this?” I heard her ask. “He wasn’t even armed. They knew he was a healer, you heard that damned orc, so why kill him?”

“I don’t know, lass.” That voice bore the rich accents of a dwarf. “It’s difficult to understand a race as alien as orcs.”

“He would heal an orc as readily as a man. That’s what he was like; he cared for everyone.”

Silently I cursed my inability to move or speak. It hurt to hear her grief and be unable to take it away.

“Look at him, lass. Someone has worked healing on him. His broken bones have begun to knit together. Someone cared enough to do that.”

“Then why kill him?”

I felt her gentle hand touching me.

“He still feels so warm.”

“You go and rest, lass. Let me deal with him for you.”

“I’m taking him back to Darnassus. I don’t want him buried here so far from home.”

With a sudden shock I realised the very real possibility that if the paralysing drug didn’t soon wear off I could end up being buried alive. Had Nerolie used too much; accustomed more to using healing potions than poisons had she over-estimated the amount she would need to render me incapable of movement.

I heard the dwarf return to my side, his footsteps firm and measured.

“I may be totally wrong, my friend,” he said softly, “which is why I have said nothing to your lovely wife, but I do not believe you are dead.”

He laid his hands upon me and I felt the warmth of his healing power, the surge of Light that went through my body counteracting the poison and helping my bones knit further. A paladin I knew then, only a paladin could use the Light in that way. Silently I gave thanks and willingly allowed myself the healing oblivion of natural sleep. As I slept my body mended and my strength returned.

When I awoke I was alone. My pain was gone and I felt a sense of wellbeing. Cautiously I tried to move, first my fingers and toes, then I stretched out my arms and legs and took a deep breath. I could move; I was no longer paralysed by the drug. There was one final thing to try; I shifted, becoming human again. Slowly I sat up, shivering in the chill as the blanket that had been covering me fell away. I was almost naked; my torn and bloodstained clothes lay on a box nearby.

I was considering what to do when I heard voices approaching. The door flap was lifted and a dwarf looked in. Black of hair and beard and rosy- faced, his bright plate armour was somewhat battle-tarnished. Upon seeing me he smiled, then turned to look behind him and issued an order in his own language. He stepped inside and set down the bundle he was carrying.

“I’m right pleased to see you looking so well, lad. And heartily glad that I was right.”

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Lucky guess! Seriously though; you didn’t feel dead to me. Although the poison in your body had slowed down everything almost to the point of death I could still detect the faintest flicker of life there. It’s a principle of mine never to give up until there is absolutely no hope.”

“I’m very grateful for that,” I told him. “I could hear everything that was said, and I didn’t much fancy being buried alive.”

“No I dare say you wouldn’t.”

“Does Lizabetha know?”

“Not yet. I didn’t want to raise her hopes until I knew you would recover. She’ll know soon. I asked my servant to fetch her; along with some food for you. I expect you’re hungry after all this time.”

I nodded. “I could do with some new clothes as well. Mine aren’t wearable now.”

“Already sorted, lad. Those should fit you.” He indicated the bundle he’d brought with him. I pulled it towards me and unfolded the clothes; they were similar to what I usually wore, in the colours of the army’s uniform. I’d just finished dressing when another dwarf entered the tent carrying a plate of food and a mug.

“This is the best cook could find at short notice,” he said. “I’d have brought some beer but he said it wouldn’t be good for the patient. Imagine!”

I thanked him. The mug held fresh cold water; thirsty as I was it was as refreshing as the best beer. I ate hungrily, watched by the paladin whose name I still didn’t know. I paused in my eating and looked at him. “I owe you my life,” I said, “and I still don’t know your name.”

“I’m Aralen Barleyleaf of the Argent Crusade.”

I’d almost finished eating when I heard Lizabetha’s voice nearby calling out to the dwarf.

“I’m in here, lass,” he called. “Come along in.”

“Your servant said you wanted to see me,” she said as she walked in. Then she saw me and stopped. The look on her face was once of utter disbelief.

“Arrentai!”

She flung herself into my arms and burst into tears.

“You were dead,” she whispered.

“Not quite. Master Aralen realised that and healed me.”

“But how?”

I sat her beside me and told her everything that had happened to me. Aralen listened as well.

“An orc with a sense of honour. You don’t find many of those,” he commented.

“A mother who was grateful for her child’s life. Arrentai, if you hadn’t stopped me from killing her, you’d be dead now.”

“But I’m not dead, thanks to Master Aralen. It’s over now so don’t worry about it anymore.”

“You should both go home,” the dwarf suggested.

Lizabetha nodded but I said, “No. We can still be of use. I’m going to Stormwind to find out where I can be most useful.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough,” Lizabetha pleaded but I was adamant.

“So long as the Horde are a threat to the Alliance I have to help.”

“He’s right, lass. Nowhere is safe. But how will you get there? The Horde fleets are blockading all our harbours. Our ships can’t sail.”

“If I can get to Ratchet I can sail to Booty Bay then fly up to Stormwind,” I said. “Are those ports still neutral?”

“Aye, they are.”

 “Good, then that’s the way I’ll go.” I looked at Lizabetha. “Will you come with me or return to Darnassus?”

“I’ll come. But what about Taliesa?”

“As you pointed out before she’s safest in Darnassus for now. She’ll stay there.”

After taking another day or two to recover my strength I was ready to go. Aralen Barleyleaf arranged for some of the patrollers to fly us to Ratchet; and announced that he was coming with us.

We set off at first light, hoping to avoid notice by any Horde observers. Nonetheless I made sure I was in human form; for Nerolie’s sake I didn’t want them knowing that the worgen they thought was dead was still alive.

 We approached the port cautiously. The goblins of the Steamwheedle Cartel prided themselves on their neutrality but there still might be Horde forces there. Luck was with us, we bought passage on the first ship to sail after we arrived and were soon on our way to Booty Bay. The length of the journey gave my injuries time to heal and by the time we arrived I was more or less recovered and ready for whatever the future held.


	14. Chapter 14

Arrentai

From Booty Bay we paid for the flight to Stormwind. It took us the best part of a week, stopping at flight points along the way to change mounts and to rest. I’d never seen the southern reaches of the Eastern Kingdoms before and I was interested in all I saw. As we approached the city from the south Stormwind looked no different apart from more guards around than usual.

Aralen led us from the gryphons’ roost and down into the busy streets. He turned to his servant.

“I need to report in to the barracks. You head to my home and tell my wife I’ll be bringing guests for dinner. Then you can get off home to your family and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Aralen watched the younger man hurry off towards the dwarven district then he turned to us.

“He’s a good lad,” he commented, “and he has the makings of a good soldier. Now, I’ll head to the barracks; are you two coming with me?”

I glanced at Lizabetha and she shook her head.

“No,” I said. “We’ll meet you there later.”

He nodded cheerfully and strode off whistling merrily.

“You don’t mind, do you, Arrentai?” Lizabetha asked, “But if we’re going to be away for some time we could really do with a few more things.”

“No, of course not,” I assured her.

We headed towards the shops of the trade district and fairly soon had found all we needed, spare clothes, personal supplies, all the things a traveller required, and bags to carry them in.

While in the trade district I took time to look at the notices posted on the hero’s call board. There were all the usual requests for help in various places; the one that caught my eye was different. “Pandaria,” it said in large letters, “a new opportunity for adventure and exploration”. It went on to urge people to go there to fight against the Horde, to protect its native people, to establish a foothold for the Alliance. I knew next to nothing about Pandaria, but, I figured, there must be enough space there to keep from too much contact with the Horde while doing what I did best. It appealed to me. A new start in a new land. As Lizabetha came to my side I pointed it out to her. She read the poster and nodded.

“It sounds good,” she agreed, “but it’s so far away. Do you really want to be so far away from Taliesa?”

I shook my head; I didn’t want to leave her for so long; I was missing so much of her childhood. But she was back in Darnassus, the ports were blockaded, how could I fetch her to be with us?

I walked away, deep in thought, as we headed for the Old Town. Our last port of call was the leatherworking shop there. There I purchased some prepared skins, threads and the tools I needed to repair my damaged armour. The borrowed army issue kit I was wearing was all very well, but it didn’t fit like that which I had made myself, and it didn’t have the same strengthening enchantments. Nor did it have the very essential enchantment that enabled it to change so that it still fitted when I shapeshifted.

All our purchases made we headed for the army’s headquarters at the edge of the district. The guard at the gate recognised me and greeted me cheerfully.

“Are you here to see your brother?” he asked.

“No. is he here then?”

“I believe his platoon is due in any day,” he answered.

That was good news, it would be good to see Gillaen and Nerissina, to be assured that they were safe after all that had happened.

“Let him know I’m here when he arrives. In the meantime we’re to meet with Crusader Aralen Barleyleaf.”

We were directed to the commander’s office, a place I was becoming remarkably familiar with considering I wasn’t even part of the military.

 Aralen had made his report about the events in the Barrens and now I was asked to do the same. The commander was somewhat misbelieving about my encounter with Nerolie Trueblade. He could not believe that an orc would willingly show compassion to an enemy. Yet I was here; the living evidence of that.

“She was old enough to have come from Draenor,” I said. “She said her mate died at Blackrock Spire; that was the end of the second war, wasn’t it? And he had the blood curse, yet she did not. Her eyes were not red. Maybe that makes the difference.”

“You could be right, lad,” Aralen agreed. “I believe the orcs led a peaceful life on Draenor before the Burning Legion corrupted them. And if that was the life she remembered, the life she chose to live...”

He broke off but clearly we were thinking along similar lines. And if one orc had chosen freedom from the Burning Legion then maybe there were others who’d done likewise. Others who would be receptive to the idea of peace.

The commander had no patience to listen to our speculations. As far as he was concerned the only good orc was a dead one. We left the barracks and headed into the city. And as we walked we talked. I told Aralen about the poster I’d read.

As a member of the Argent Crusade Aralen was independent of the army and could go where he chose. He liked my idea of going to Pandaria, and told me what little he knew of the place. The continent had been lost in the mists of the southern oceans since the sundering of the world; but now the mists had parted to reveal its location. The Alliance (and presumably the Horde) was planning an expedition there; and volunteers were wanted to support the army. I wasn’t interested in fighting but I’d willingly go as a healer; and take the opportunity while I was there to explore and learn about this new land.

We left the Old Town behind and headed into the Dwarven District. This part of the city was unlike any other area. It was crammed with forges and workshops constantly belching out smoke and fumes as craftsmen worked day and night making armour and weapons for the army. Here also were gnomes busy with their sometimes unreliable engineering and technology. It was common, Aralen told us, for the peace to be disturbed by explosions when their experiments went wrong.

Aralen’s home was in a quieter area, near to the city walls. He led us inside and closed the door, shutting out the clamour of the streets.

“I’m home!” he called out and within moments a female dwarf appeared from the back of the house.  A little shorter than Aralen, who himself barely reached my shoulder, with blonde hair tied in a single braid and twinkling blue eyes, she was enveloped in a large apron and bore a dusting of flour on her cheeks.

“Welcome,” she said cheerfully. “Come along in and make yourselves comfortable.”

Our companion strode forward, caught her in his arms, and kissed her affectionately. Laughing she freed herself.

“Aralen, I’ve put a bottle of wine in the parlour for you and your friends. Why don’t you get them a drink and I’ll join you as soon as dinner’s in the oven.”

“Yes, my dear,” he replied meekly as she hurried away.

“Just leave your bags over there,” he indicated, pointing to a corner, and dumping his own belongings. When we’d unburdened ourselves he led us into a cosy, fire lit parlour and settled us with glasses of good wine before disappearing to remove his armour. He returned a few minutes later, followed shortly by the young female whom he introduced to us as his wife Amarya.

“And where is our son and heir?” he asked.

“He’s asleep; and don’t you dare wake him,” she replied.

It was a pleasant evening that we spent with Aralen and Amarya. Good food, fine wine and enjoyable company; it was a long time since we’d last known that. Not since our wedding, in fact; we lived a quiet life in Darnassus. We stayed the night with them; and I slept more soundly than I had for some time; able to relax, secure in the knowledge that we weren’t at risk of attack.

I awoke early. Lizabetha was still asleep and so it seemed were our hosts. Quietly so as not to disturb anyone I left the house and went for a walk. Wanting peace I headed for the closest city gate and wandered down to the nearby lake. For some time I sat there in the pale dawn light, deep in thought, watching the gentle ripples on the water. All about me I was aware of the wild creatures that dwelt in the area; the nocturnal creatures seeking shelter after a night of foraging or hunting; and those who came out in the day beginning to waken and emerge from their dens and burrows. For a while it was easy to imagine myself in my old life back in Gilneas, before the Scourge took the best of our warriors, before the cataclysm destroyed the land, before the change forced on our people by the worgen curse. Life had been simple then. As the sun began to climb above the horizon I arose and headed back into the city. By now the household was up and busy. My wife, used to my early morning wanderings, wasn’t worried by my absence and had reassured our hosts that it was something I did often.

I’d said nothing to Aralen the previous day, but he’d obviously noticed that I was troubled and while I was out he’d spoken to Lizabetha. He had a solution, he told me. There were several mages staying in town ready to join the expedition, and one was a friend of his. He felt sure that if he asked his friend would make a mage portal for me so that I could return to Darnassus to fetch Taliesa. The offer was irresistible; I couldn’t turn it down. So after breakfast he went out to see his friend.

I couldn’t believe my eyes when he returned. His friend was none other than Josstellan. I greeted the night elf with delight. It turned out that he and Maelinastra were also planning on going to Pandaria, not in an official capacity, but like us to explore.

Josstellan was more than happy to make us a portal. The three of us stepped out of it into the Temple of Elune.

“You go and get yourselves organised,” he told us. “When you are ready I will be waiting here for you.”

It didn’t take us long. We returned to the temple complete with Taliesa and everything we thought we might need. Josstellan greeted us cheerfully and opened the portal back to Stormwind.

Taliesa was chattering cheerfully about all and anything as we walked out of the mage tower. Josstellan left us then to go and find Maelinastra. We headed towards the trade district. There was one more thing I’d realised we’d need. Mounts. Back in Darnassus I had little need for my own mount. Most of the time I simply shapeshifted to my druid travel or flight form. If I was taking Taliesa or bags I hired a nightsaber or hippogryph. I still owned my horse but Taliesa used it more than I did. I’d decided that gryphons would be best, both on the ground and in the air. The creatures were large enough that Taliesa would be able to ride with me.

We entered the gryphon roost and I spoke to the vendor, explaining what I needed. He showed me the beasts available. I looked at them carefully, judging their attributes. The one I preferred was ebon, dark blue-black plumage and brown body. I turned to Lizabetha, beckoning her forward to make a choice. She chose one that was pure white all over.

“What about me, Daddy?” Taliesa chimed in, as I was settling the payment. It took a sizeable chunk of my savings, but I figured they were worth it. Who knew what there would be in Pandaria?

“Not yet, Talli,” I said. “You’ll be riding with me. You get your own when you’re older.”

She pouted, but said no more. She knew when I meant what I was saying.

I walked over to my gryphon and rested a hand gently on it, allowing our minds to connect, for it to imprint on me. This way I would be able to summon it to me when I needed it. It took a certain kind of magic to do this, not everyone could. I was already attuned to nature so it came easily to me. Beside me I saw Lizabetha do the same.

Saddles and harness had been included in the price. I arranged with the flight master that our gryphons would stay at the roost until we needed them, Aralen had no room for them at his home.

A lot of people wanted to go to Pandaria. We would have to wait our turn for places on a transport. That was fine with me, it would give us time to spend with Gillaen when he arrived in Stormwind.

Taliesa was happy to be back with us and excited to be going to a new place. She was also captivated with Aralen and Amarya’s son, four year old Hugo. He too would be going with us. Although Amarya was a warrior she wasn’t going as a fighter so felt that he would be safe enough with her.

The army would be going first on our fastest ships and airships to establish a safe base and hopefully start friendly negotiations with the Pandaren.

We’d been in Stormwind a couple of weeks when I got word that Gillaen’s platoon was arriving back from the northern reaches of the Eastern Kingdoms. They’d been fighting at several battlefields up there and had incurred some heavy losses, Aralen told me. It wasn’t common knowledge but he had a way of getting hold of such information.

A few days later Gillaen and Nerissina visited us at Aralen’s home. Both were quiet, subdued, bearing fresh injuries. Although they were obviously pleased to be back home, both of them, my brother especially seemed very troubled. I wasn’t sure what I could do, but they needed something, I could tell. As they were leaving that night I spoke quietly to them.

“If you need to talk, I’m willing to listen, you know that. Just say.”

Nerissina merely nodded and began to walk away. Gillaen looked at me and smiled sadly.

“I’d like that,” he said. “I also need to go to the cathedral. Meet me there tomorrow morning?”

“Of course.”

I watched him walk away and catch up with Nerissina, watched until they disappeared from sight before I went back inside.

I awoke early the next morning, left the house quietly and headed through the almost deserted streets to Cathedral Square. Gillaen had asked me to accompany him to the cathedral and I went willingly, always happy to support my brother when he needed me. He’d recently returned from yet another battlefield and I could tell that something was troubling him. He was waiting on the steps, dressed as always in his dark armour and hooded cloak. As I came to his side he turned and we walked inside, silently side by side. He walked towards the altar, ignoring as always the hostile glances of those who believed there was no place here for death knights.

I watched as he knelt in prayer, taking longer than he usually did. When at last he arose and walked towards me I could see his sorrow, the tears that dampened his cheeks. That wasn’t like him, not how I remembered my big brother. He’d always been the tough one, even as a child; refusing to cry if he was hurt or getting some often well-deserved punishment.

“Do you want to talk?” I asked. He nodded.

We walked outside and sat on the steps, looking out across the square where as usual the children from the orphanage played. For some moments he was silent. I waited patiently; I knew he’d talk when he was ready.

“I’ve lost some good friends in recent battles,” he said quietly.

“And I keep wondering, what was the point? What did they die for? I joined the army because I wanted to make a difference; to protect family, friends, home from the things that threatened them. To make it safe for them. But what have I achieved?  What have any of us achieved? We’re still at war. All that changes is the enemy. Will it ever end?”

“I can’t answer that, no one can. But you have made a difference. You, your friends, the Alliance, even the Horde; you’ve protected this world from the demons that would have destroyed it. We are here now because of what you have done. Because you were willing to sacrifice yourselves to keep us safe.”

“But how can I reconcile that with what I did as part of the Scourge? I swore an oath to serve the Light, and I turned against it, I became the very thing I’d sworn to destroy. How can you justify that?”

“Gillaen, that was not your fault; you had no choice. And you won your freedom from them; you are still trying to make right the wrongs; to help people, to repair the damage that was done. I know you don’t talk about it; but other people do, and I get to hear what you’ve done. You have no reason to feel guilty.”

He didn’t answer, but sat there staring out across the square.

“Remember your friends, honour them for the sacrifice they made; but don’t feel guilty because you are still here. They wouldn’t want that. You’ve been given a second chance at life; maybe it’s not the life you’d have chosen, but make the most of it. Live it for them, for us, for yourself.”

He turned to look at me and I could see the awful sadness in his cold colourless eyes.

“Some days I feel as though it’s all too much. That it would be easier to just give in to the darkness, to let it end.”

For a moment I stared at him in stunned silence, horrified that he could even contemplate that.

I reached out my hand to rest it on his, feeling the chill of his pale skin.

“Don’t give in, Gillaen. You’re strong, you’ve come this far, you can get through this.”

“Can I? I don’t know. You have a lot more faith in me than I have these days.”

He bowed his head, burying his face in his hands, remaining in that position for long moments. All I could do was wait and hope.

The square grew slowly lighter as the sun rose above the roofs of the encircling buildings, casting its light gradually across the ground until at last it touched us as we sat there. I did not expect Gillaen’s reaction. He gave a single convulsive shudder and a low moan as if in pain. Then he shook his head and raised it to gaze into the light.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t mean to be so negative, but sometimes I find it so hard to see what is good about my life now.”

  “You’re alive, you’re free, and you have family who care about you. What more could you want?”

He turned to look at me again, his face expressionless. I had no idea what he was thinking.

Then he grinned.

“You’re very wise, little brother. Thank you.”

He rose to his feet, took one or two steps away, then turned back to me. The sun behind him shone through his tousled, wind-blown hair making it seem like a halo. I had to smile at the incongruity, even as a child my brother had never been remotely angelic.

“I need a drink,” he said, totally putting an end to the illusion. “Coming? My treat.”

Laughing, I jumped to my feet and followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gillaen's reflections about war were written following the day of remembrance for the start of world war 1. I wondered how he would feel in a similar situation and wrote a short piece which I think fits nicely in here.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long for this latest chapter to be posted. Real life has been taking precedence.

Chapter Fifteen  
Gillaen   
I’m afraid I got Arrentai rather worried after our visit to the cathedral. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted some company. But then he asked if I wanted to talk. Sometimes it’s hard to find someone to talk to when you need to get things off your chest. I know there are the priests who are supposed to hear anyone who needs a confidential listener, and they have their place. All our units have priests attached, sometimes they double as healers, but mostly they’re there as spiritual advisors.  
When I was a paladin I found it easy to talk to a priest if something was troubling me, but it’s different now. I don’t see them any differently, but you can sense how uneasy they are with death knights. They see us as irredeemably lost, an affront to the purity of the Light, especially those of us who were paladins. And that attitude, however we try to ignore it, is not exactly conducive to baring our innermost feelings and doubts.  
I remember a gnome among the death knights back in the early days of our freedom, tiny, pink haired, as small as Taliesa. She should never have been there, she wasn’t a fighter. A healer, she’d been helping wounded soldiers on the battlefield and it was her courage in trying to defend me from the scourge warrior that took my soul that led to her joining our ranks. She was a priest, devoted to the light; everything that she’d been made to do, every terrible deed went against that creed. I often wonder how she reconciled what she had been with what she became, how she was treated by people who’d once counted her among their number. I hope she fared better than some of us did. Maybe someday I’ll meet her again and find out. From what I recall of her I think she’ll manage well enough. She had such strength of character for one so small.  
Arrentai is different. My brother was always my closest confidant as a child and young man. We shared all our doubts and secrets, our joys and sorrows, knowing that it would never go any further. I only ever kept one secret from him, my love for Nerissina. To tell him that his happiness had come at the expense of mine would have been too cruel and even at my most despairing I couldn’t do that to him.  
I never intended to burden him with all my doubts and fears and guilt that day. But once I’d started I couldn’t halt the flow of words. And Arrentai, my dear reliable little brother, as always knew just the right answers, the words that would lift me out of my despair.  
When I suggested going for a drink, it wasn’t that I felt the need to get drunk, not this time anyway. I just wanted more time to talk, about his plans for the future, about what I’d be doing next. He’d mentioned his planned trip to Pandaria the night before over dinner at his friend’s house. I hadn’t said anything then because it had just been rumours, but this morning before I’d left the barracks we’d been told that we too were going to Pandaria. The king was determined that the horde be prevented from doing to Pandaria what they’d done to Theramore. We were the weapon, the shield that would curb the Horde’s endeavours.  
We headed for our favoured drinking place, the Pig and Whistle, and ordered ourselves drinks. As Arrentai and Lizabetha were staying with his friends until their departure we were undisturbed and stayed there drinking and talking until well into the afternoon. I couldn’t tell you now all that we discussed; all I recall is that we reminisced over the past, told tales of our adventures and considered our future plans. It all seemed so normal, how we had been before everything went so wrong. It was what I needed more than anything; to feel normal.  
I couldn’t see that we’d be spending much time together when we got to Pandaria but it would be a change to be on the same continent for longer than a few days. We didn’t get to spend nearly enough time together. As it turned out we had a fair bit of time to spare before we’d be leaving Stormwind. With the sheer number of troops heading to Pandaria, there weren’t enough ships to take us all at once. Eventually we hoped to be using mage portals, but they have one insurmountable disadvantage. A mage can only open a portal between places he has been to in person. For the permanent portals the king wanted we needed a secure base with mages there to set them up.  
Josstellan and Maelinastra, together with the other mages necessary for such an undertaking would be on the first ships and airships to depart. We had to wait until there was room for us. I knew the voyage would be a long one, and I remembered all too clearly the last long voyage that Nerissina and I had taken, that from Northrend. I wanted to avoid a repeat of those events if I could. So I decided to plan a short excursion for us and a few friends. A few days demon hunting would sate our hunger nicely and there were always plenty of demons to be found in Outland. So I invited Arrentai, Hestia’s husband Jothan and his friend Lissan, a warrior from Goldshire, along for the adventure. Nothing could go wrong I thought. I really should know better by now.

Arrentai   
I thought after the events in Darkshore I had seen Nerissina at her worst. I was wrong; by the Light I was terribly wrong.  
We were in the Blasted Lands, on our way to the Dark Portal; Gillaen, Nerissina, Lissan, Jothan and I. We were riding out from Nethergarde Keep, relaxed, cheerfully anticipating the adventure we were bound on. Because there was no danger I was in human form; Nerissina was worgen as she usually chose to be now.  
Ahead, a group of about a dozen or so men appeared round a bend in the road riding towards us. They seemed harmless enough, hunters, warriors, rogues maybe, going about their lawful business. I saw nothing to cause concern as they approached. The leader nodded cordially as he passed Gillaen who was at the front of our group. Lissan and Jothan, behind him also rode past them.  
Not Nerissina; she reined in her horse and turned in the saddle to watch them, scenting the air suspiciously.  
“What’s wrong?” I asked, stopping behind her.  
“I know them, their scent. They were in Silverpine...”  
I had no idea what she was talking about. She had told me very little about her time in Silverpine and Shadowfang.  
Without warning she wheeled her horse round and rode after them.  
“Gillaen!”  
I called my brother, and he turned at once, reacting to my alarm. We rode after Nerissina, but she had a head start and her horse, more lightly burdened than ours, was swifter. We could only watch in horror as she flung herself from her saddle to pull the first man she reached to the ground. Within seconds he was dead; his throat ripped to shreds by her fangs.  
The other strangers turned to avenge their friend. They would have been better to have continued riding. A second, then a third died at Nerissina’s hand before we could reach her. The leader, a warrior, had dismounted and drawn his sword; and was circling Nerissina trying to find an opening, but obviously reluctant to risk being bitten. She turned, always facing him, snarling bestially. Horribly, she reminded me of the feral worgen that had over-run Gilneas.  
I tried to approach her, but she snarled at me.  
“Don’t try to stop me, Arrentai. I will have my revenge for what they did.”  
“She’s insane,” one of the other men, still mounted, said.  
“She should be destroyed.”  
I ignored him.  
“Tell me, Nerissina, what did they do? I don’t understand.”  
“They stole my baby. She was newborn, hungry. They snatched her from my breast and left me for dead. Now they’ll pay.”  
I turned my gaze on the man. He would not meet my eye.  
“Is it true? Were you in Silverpine after Shadowfang was raided and its captives freed?”  
“What concern is it of yours?” he demanded, rather arrogantly. “We were charged with ridding the area of the worgen; ending the problems they were causing. We found a feral worgen with a human child. Of course we rescued it.”  
He showed no remorse; to him, like so many others back then, a worgen was less than human, merely an animal to be destroyed.  
I was aware of my brother and our friends moving to prevent the others from escaping.  
“That child,” I said quietly, menacingly, “was hers. And mine. Thanks to you we lost years of our daughter’s life. I might never have known she even existed.”  
I‘d held my emotions in check and was still human. Now, I shape-shifted. As worgen I towered over the man and he visibly cowered.  
“What am I?” I demanded. “Man or worgen? Can you tell?”  
He shook his head.  
“No. You can’t. And you could not tell what she was. She didn’t threaten you; she just tried to protect her child. And you treated her like an animal. You deserve your fate.”  
I turned away; saw the look of shock on Gillaen’s face. I don’t think my brother had realised how I truly felt about Taliesa’s loss even though he had witnessed my reaction upon learning of her existence. Nerissina glanced briefly at me, expecting me to try to stop her; she now took my words as approval. She moved towards the man baring her teeth, extending her claws, and grabbed him by the shoulder.  
“Arrentai? This is wrong,” Gillaen protested.  
“Stay out of it, Gillaen. This is Nerissina’s choice, her decision. Don’t interfere.”   
I knew Gillaen was right; I shouldn’t let Nerissina continue. But this man and his friends had almost destroyed our family by their callous disregard for her rights as a mother. And maybe, just maybe, if she had not lost Taliesa then, she would not have later been in the battle where she fell to the Scourge. She could have been a real mother to our daughter, instead of being afraid to be close to her. Right or wrong, I held them responsible for that too. At that moment my hatred for them outweighed any compassion I might have for what I knew was coming. I simply didn’t care what happened to them.   
The man howled in pain as she sank her fangs into his throat, but she didn’t kill him.  
“Shall I let you suffer as I suffered?” she snarled. “Shall I make you into a creature that your family will run from in fear? Show you what my life has been?”  
She threw him to one side and turned her attention to the others. Paralysed by fear they were an easy target and she finished them quickly, mercifully.  
For a moment she stood there, surrounded by the bodies of her victims. Then she turned to look at the one she’d left alive. Already the blood from his wound was congealing; he wouldn’t die, I knew; he would share our fate and undergo the change to worgen.  
“Remember this,” Nerissina said, her voice low, menacing.  
“This is your punishment for the way you treated me. When your loved ones run screaming from you remember the mother whose child you stole just because she was different.”  
Her rage spent, she turned away and walked towards Gillaen. My brother reached out to place his hand on her shoulder, murmuring words of comfort. Then surprisingly she shifted to human and let him hold her close as she wept. I felt a moment of jealousy that she had chosen my brother; but it was an emotion I had no right to feel. Nerissina was no longer my lover; I had a new life with Lizabetha; and she was free to make her own choices.  
I shifted back to human and turned away to face the man who still lay where Nerissina had flung him.  
“I suggest you make your way to Nethergarde and tell them what has happened to you. They will see you are kept safe until the change has happened.”  
He stared at me blankly.  
“When it happens you will become that which you fear so much, a savage, uncontrolled beast. You will be unable to stop yourself from killing; you won’t even remember that you were once human. Believe me you don’t want that on your conscience; to always wonder what terrible things you might have done.”  
“We can’t leave him,” Jothan said quietly behind me.  
“What if the change happens quickly? Before he gets there?”  
“He’s right,” this was Lissan.  
“We let Nerissina do this. It’s our responsibility.”  
I nodded. They were right of course. I could have stopped her, but I’d let Nerissina exact her terrible revenge.  
We took him with us, bound to his horse’s saddle, and handed him to the troops at the Dark Portal.  
“What happened to him?” the officer in command wanted to know.  
“He got on the wrong side of a vengeful worgen,” I explained, “and he needs to be kept secure until he changes.”  
Nerissina and I were both in human form at that point so the officer had no way of knowing that she was the worgen involved, and I certainly wasn’t going to tell him.   
I did however tell him where he could find the bodies.  
The man said not a word, just staring at me in abject terror. I knew he would never forget the day he crossed Nerissina and learned for himself what it was to be a worgen, feared and hated by so many. I had no idea what his ultimate fate would be, how he would learn to balance the beast with his humanity now that Tal’Doren was gone; but I assumed the night elf druids must have come up with some solution as I hadn’t heard of any outbreaks of feral worgen other than the ones that had plagued Duskwood for as long as anyone could remember. I had done all I could for him.   
I turned away to join my companions and we rode toward the makeshift stable that had been erected to one side of the bowl that held both the portal and the joint Alliance/Horde outpost. We weren't taking our horses to Outland with us, Gillaen had told us we wouldn't have much need of them as it was safer to fly where we were going. So we made sure they were settled and paid the stable master for their care. Nerissina dismissed her deathcharger back to the Ebon Hold, but to my surprise Gillaen did not do the same with his mount. Instead he handed the required gold to the man and gave him instructions on its care. Then together we walked up the ramp and through the portal.   
As we emerged the other side of the portal, on a platform much like the one in the Blasted Lands I stopped and looked around me. Jothan beside me did the same. Neither of us had been here before and to be honest it didn’t look like a place I'd want to visit again. I'd thought the Blasted Lands desolate, this was worse. It had the same barren, red earth that could not support any growing thing, fading into the distance further than the eye could see. The air was dry, hot, a constantly moving wind that sucked the life from everything. And the sounds, the constant clash of battle as Alliance and Horde fought side by side against the fearful demons that endlessly attacked the portal, the cries of the demons as they constantly issued what seemed to be challenges in their demonic language, the shouts of the soldiers and their officers in every tongue known on Azeroth, the shrieks of the gryphons on the Alliance side and the bats on the Horde side. It was a deafening cacophony that tortured my sensitive ears. I'd instinctively shifted to worgen for the boost it gave me, but it had the obvious disadvantage that I heard everything so much more keenly.  
I heard Gillaen call to us and we hurried down the steps to join our friends. Round the side of the platform it was marginally better; there was some sort of magic screening that filtered out the worst of the noise. My brother was talking to an officer.  
“We’re going to head to Honor Hold,” he told us. “There’s always plenty to do there, and it’s a lot quieter.”  
I nodded, gratefully. I could scarcely think straight and my head was starting to ache. Nerissina was looking equally distressed. I couldn’t imagine how these men coped with this every day. Gillaen seemed untroubled, every inch the seasoned soldier, his authority evident in the way the officer deferred to him. I'd never seen this side of him before, the career soldier, the experienced officer, someone who could make a decision, issue an order, and expect it to be carried out without question. My respect for him grew exponentially.  
After a short wait enough gryphons were available to transport us to Honor Hold and we set off. I would have been willing to use flight form; but Gillaen said no. There were a lot of dangers between the Dark Portal and Honor Hold, he told me. The gryphons were used to them and trained to deal with them. I wouldn’t know what to expect or how to react and he didn’t want to risk me being hurt, or worse.  
“Lizabetha would never forgive me,” he said.  
“So just humour me, little brother.”  
I laughed and gave in.  
The flight took around a couple of hours and was thankfully uneventful, giving me the opportunity to look around. For the most part the flight path followed an old road beaten into the earth, unpaved but obviously well-used. It headed westwards, sometimes dipping below the level of the surrounding land. As we flew higher, disconcertingly I found I could glimpse the edges of the world, raw shattered rock, pieces of which floated freely in the emptiness of space. Now I understood why Gillaen had insisted I ride a gryphon. It would be so easy to drift away from my path, caught in my fascination with this strange land and risk being lost forever in the abyss. From our altitude it was hard to see much detail, but occasionally, as we neared our destination, I saw the machinery of war ranged alongside; ballistae, catapults, glaive throwers. Then I saw the immense stone citadel built at the end of the road, its towers and battlements dominating the land. To my relief that was not our destination, instead we veered southward to a partially ruined fortress built on a hill within sight of the road. The now weary gryphons circled down to land at their roost within the walls and we alighted with relief, stretching out our stiff limbs. Curiously I looked around.   
We'd arrived at Honor hold as evening drew in, although you’d be hard pressed to tell in the never-changing light of Hellfire Peninsula. Close by the flight point ranks of unenthusiastic soldiers were being drilled by an officer, to one side was a rough stable housing a varied handful of mounts. Behind the soldiers was a low two storey building that was obviously the inn, higher up the hill was the keep, the administrative hub. There were a few other buildings, among them a forge, a mage tower, and of course barracks for the troops. At the northernmost point was a building that was almost completely demolished. It was too late, Gillaen decided, to speak to the commander; we could do that in the morning. We spoke to the innkeeper, to arrange for accommodation. He had only two rooms left, he told us; other adventurers were occupying the others. They'd do for us, Gillaen decided, he and Nerissina would share one room, the rest of us the other. We paid for the rooms for a few days; the innkeeper insisted on being paid in advance, too many people died before settling their bills, he said. I wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking. That done we settled in the common room for a meal.   
The food was plain, but well cooked and flavoured, and there was plenty of it. No strong alcohol was on offer though, only light beers, fruit juice or water. It didn’t bother me, but I overheard more than a few soldiers complaining about it. I'd chosen a seat from which I could watch over the room as I ate. The soldiers seemed a pretty standard lot, always complaining, as they obeyed their orders with little or no enthusiasm. I guess some of them had been serving here a long time and had become disillusioned with their lot.  
The adventurers were rather more of a mixed bunch. As the evening passed the inn filled up and I had ample opportunity to observe them. They came in twos and threes, in larger parties, in mixed groups of all the Alliance races; noisy, enthusiastic, eager to do their bit to help. There was little to distinguish one from another; or from any of us really. We were all there for basically the same reasons; to kill demons, to protect our world, maybe to earn some glory.  
It was late and the inn crowded and very noisy when the door opened and a lone draenei entered. Tall, solidly built like a warrior, yet wearing dusty, travel-stained robes such as a priest wore, he carried only a staff and a small all-purpose knife at his belt, and a single bag over his shoulder. For a moment he hesitated as though unwilling to join the crowd; then he pushed his way through the room to the bar. He seemed so out of place that I continued to watch as he spoke to the barman, took the two bottles of beer the man put on the counter, and turned to look for a seat. It so happened that the nearest empty place was at our table. He headed over and paused by us.  
“Excuse me,” he said quietly. “May I sit here while I eat?”  
The others, engrossed in their conversation, scarcely noticed him. I nodded.  
“Feel free,” I answered.  
“Thank you.”  
He pulled out the chair, sat down, and set one of his bottles on the table. He unscrewed the cap on the other and took a long swallow of beer before looking at me.  
“Forgive me, I needed that. The dust here gets in your throat, and no amount of drink eases it while you are out there.”  
After a moment’s pause he went on.  
“I am Kayllen.”   
No last name, but then few draenei did have one.  
“Arrentai Bearheart,” I responded.  
“You are new here?”  
I nodded.  
“We arrived today.”  
“You will not stay long. You don’t seem like the usual people who come here.”  
“No. We’re just here for a few days, before we sail to Pandaria. It’s a long voyage. Gillaen, my brother, and Nerissina are death knights; they don’t handle long periods of inactivity well, so they figured a few days of demon killing would help them cope better.”  
Just then the barman brought a plate of food and placed it in front of Kayllen. He paid the man and began to eat. I sipped my own drink in silence for a few minutes before asking,  
“So what brought you out here?”  
“We’ve heard so much about the troubles here I thought I should try to help. But I wasn’t prepared for this; it’s changed so much, not the world I remember any more. It’s hard to be a healer and know that you can’t heal what’s wrong here.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Are you a healer, my friend? You’ll soon learn. The best you can do is put an end to the suffering. And try not to lose your own humanity.”  
I had no answer to that. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to return to your home after so many years and find it changed beyond recognition. I'd never had the courage to return to Gilneas and walk its deserted streets, since the day the night elves had evacuated us.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers and their friends do their bit for Outland, and find a new friend.

Arrentai  
I awoke early. Quickly, quietly I dressed, shoving all my belongings back in my bag. It was a habit I'd developed while travelling round Azeroth, always being ready to move at a moment’s notice, and one I never ignored except when I was at home. Jothan and Lissan were still sleeping. I left them; they’d wake soon enough; and went downstairs, carrying my bag and weapons. Gillaen and Nerissina were already there, sitting together, studying a map and some handwritten notes.  
My brother looked up at me as I approached, breakfast in hand.  
“Making plans?” I asked, indicating the papers as I sat down.  
“No. I haven’t spoken to the commander yet. Just running through some ideas based on what we remember from our deployment here. It hasn’t changed much. Along the Path of Glory from Hellfire Citadel, maybe half its length, there are fel orcs. That’s pretty much covered; they send the less experienced adventurers there. Here and here,” (he pointed to two areas along the north edge of the zone) “there are demons, but they keep to themselves. Over here, the Legion Front, this is the place that always gave us the most trouble. The most dangerous demons are here, the clever ones, the biggest. They build portals to the Twisting Nether, to other worlds. As soon as we close them they open new ones to bring in reinforcements. It’s a never-ending battle; one we can’t afford to lose.”  
I pointed to the southern edge, which he hadn’t mentioned.  
“What about here?”  
“The Expedition Armoury? Not a place anyone wants to go. After the second war a battle was fought there between humans and orcs. The orcs destroyed the place and their death knights raised our fallen as ghosts. They’re still there, unable to find peace unless someone kills them again. It’s not an easy thing to do; most people can’t stay there long enough to make much difference. I wouldn’t advise you to go there.”  
I sat deep in thought as I ate. I'd noticed Gillaen’s choice of words. He didn’t forbid me to go there, although as the de facto leader of our group he could have done so. But he knew me better than that; to forbid me something would immediately make it more attractive.  
However I'd been thinking about what task I'd choose to undertake. When we were flying across the peninsula I'd noticed that the demons were spread out, leaving little ground uncovered.  
Gillaen and the others were all melee fighters, they wouldn’t have a problem. But me, I was a ranged fighter and healer. My spells took time to cast; I needed to stay back away from the fighting to ensure I wasn’t distracted while casting. If Gillaen chose to fight the demons I wouldn’t have that option.  
Yes, I could fight as a bear or cat, I'd done so before now, but I'd still have to shift out of either form to heal. And that would leave me vulnerable.  
While I was eating Jothan and Lissan joined us with their own breakfast. Once they were done we all gathered up our belongings and headed to the keep to speak to the commander. Business was conducted in a large upstairs room dominated by a large desk on a dais, covered in maps, papers and documents. Force Commander Danath Trollbane sat behind the desk overseeing everything. Gillaen had told me about him; a member of the Sons of Lothar, he and his companions had come to Draenor during the second war against the orcs and destroyed the Dark Portal to keep more orcs from invading our world. With no way to return home they’d been trapped on Draenor for twenty years or more, devoting themselves to keeping things under control.  
Other people were there ahead of us and we had to wait our turn to receive orders. I saw the draenei Kayllen talking to a draenei official to one side of the desk. Their conversation was becoming quite heated, and unashamedly I eavesdropped.  
“Nobody wants you as their healer, Kayllen,” the draenei said.  
“Every group you’ve been with says the same thing. You’re unreliable, too easily distracted, a liability. I'm not sending you out unless you can find someone willing to accept you.”  
“Fine. If that’s how you feel, Kryv, I’ll go out alone. There’s plenty I can do on my own.”  
Before anyone could say anything more Kayllen turned and stomped out. The draenei at the desk shrugged and turned back to his task.  
I hesitated for a moment then made up my mind and turned to Gillaen.  
“Can you manage without me?” I asked.  
“Yes, sure, I guess so,” my brother replied.  
I stepped out of the line and walked up to the desk.  
“I’ll go with him,” I said. “Where will I find him?”  
“Most likely the Path of Glory or the Expedition Armoury. There’s not much else he could do alone.”  
He handed me a flask of water.  
“Take this; it’s Draenei Holy Water. If you end up on the Path of Glory use it to bless any draenei bones you find. A drop or two will suffice and it will give peace to our dead.”  
I took the flask and tucked it securely into my pack before leaving. There was no sign of Kayllen within the walls. He had to have a mount, I reasoned. It would be easier to spot him if I knew what he was riding. A quick chat with the stable master informed me that he was riding a winged guardian and he’d headed north.  
The Path of Glory then; and what an inappropriate name that was. As I neared the road I saw Kayllen wandering along, tailed by his mount, a massive dark grey and white leonine beast. Every so often he paused and knelt as though praying. I landed a few yards from him and shifted from flight form to worgen. He was obviously aware I was there but he ignored me. Well, two could play at that game. I turned my attention to the task I'd been given, to bless the bones of any dead draenei I found on the road. I'd assumed they’d be relatively complete bodies, or at worst, whole skeletons; but as I looked around me I realised it was far worse than that. What I'd originally thought was broken stones under my feet was in fact partially crushed bones. The whole road was coated with them. I shuddered involuntarily; what kind of sick mind believed bones to be an appropriate paving material?  
I pulled out the flask of holy water, but I had no idea how to deal with this and I muttered as much loud enough for Kayllen to hear.  
“Look for the most complete ones,” he said. “They’re the ones who need our help the most, to let their spirits move on.”  
I watched him for a few moments. Kneeling, he tipped a drop from his bottle into a pile if bones and murmured a brief blessing. A faint wisp of something akin to smoke rose spiralling into the air and dissipated in the heat. I stepped away from him and began my own task. For some time we worked in silence  
“I can’t understand this,” I said quietly.  
“Don’t even try,” Kayllen replied. “Just let it suffice that the fel orcs have no respect for life. The orcs of the Horde, they killed so many draenei, they almost eradicated our race; but for the most part they fought fairly in battle, their warriors, their magic, against ours... except at Telmor... we thought the city was safe, hidden from sight. But there were two orcs who knew our secret, boys whose lives we’d saved. We had no idea they knew or we might have changed it, but we thought we were safe. In the end loyalty to their people was more important to them than gratitude for their lives.  
“It would have been better if we’d let the ogres have them; we might have saved so many lives.”  
“But could you have done that? Deliberately left them to die?”  
“No. That would make us no better than the Eredar. And we’ve been running from that fate for more years than I care to remember.”  
Kayllen wandered over to another pile of bones and knelt to bless them.  
“I remember Argus,” he murmured softly. “What it was before the Burning Legion destroyed our lives. We can never go back, but maybe one day we can find a new home where they can’t find us.”  
I looked at him curiously, wondering how old he was to remember his people’s original home. I'd heard that the draenei had been roaming the stars for thousands of years, always just one step ahead of the Burning Legion. Yet he seemed little older than me.  
He stood and walked away, towards the road’s edge, where he stopped and shoved his flask into a pocket.  
“I can’t keep doing this,” he said and I could hear the anguish in his voice. “There are too many; and so few of us left to remember them.”  
“You can’t do it all yourself,” I argued, following him. “Maybe it’s time for you to let someone else take their turn. Go home; make a new life for yourself.”  
“I lost everything at Telmor,” he said, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him.  
“What?”  
“My wife, my beautiful Taari, they killed her in our home where she should have been safe. I never found out what happened to our daughter, she just disappeared. I only survived because I wasn’t there when they attacked. Now, Telmor isn’t even there, it fell into the void when Draenor broke apart.”  
I had no idea what to say; there wasn’t anything that would make it right. All I could do was just listen.  
I became aware of voices behind me and glanced over my shoulder. Several fel orcs had noticed us and were approaching.  
“Kayllen, we need to get out of here, now. We can’t take on that many at once.”  
He looked past me and nodded, reaching for the reins of his mount which had continued to shadow his every move.  
“But you don’t have a mount...”  
“I'm a druid, I don’t need one.”  
I watched him mount and take off before shifting to flight form and following. I barely made it before the fel orcs reached the place where we’d been standing. Circling round for a few moments I kept their attention while Kayllen made good his escape before following him. We landed at a safe distance away and I shifted back to worgen.  
“That was too close for my liking,” I commented. “We can’t go back there now. Do you have anything else that needs doing?”  
“The expedition armoury; I was asked to look for a mislaid book there, and deal with some of the ghosts.”  
“Ghosts? It always puzzles me how you can kill ghosts. I would think weapons would just pass through them.”  
“Nevertheless it can be done. I suspect these ghosts have more substance than normal ghosts. Otherwise they wouldn’t ask people to do this.”  
I nodded. “Let’s go then.”  
“You don’t have to help me.”  
“I know.”  
I shifted back to flight form and took off in the direction I remembered from Gillaen’s map. I'd almost passed Honor Hold by the time Kayllen caught up with me. An hour later we reached the armoury. I landed and shifted before we got too close; the ruined buildings were right on the edge of the land and I was wary of flying near it. I had no way of knowing how the thermals and air currents would be affected so close to the void. And another thing, something I never spoke of because it seemed so ridiculous for a druid, when I wasn't in flight form I had a fear of heights. As a stormcrow I could fly as far and as high as I chose with no ill effects. Possibly the bird mind had enough influence that it was able to subsume my fears, but in any other form the fear was there. There was no way I was going near enough to the edge of the world to be able to look down into the void of space. I'd heard someone talking about the Abyssal Shelf, how they'd been flying between the floating rocks and bombing demons. That was one task I would definitely not be volunteering for.  
With Kayllen leading we made our way to the building where he’d been told he could find the book and after some searching we found it. Kayllen tucked it safely in his bag, then we turned our attention to the ghosts. They fought as fiercely as a living opponent; it seemed to me that they weren’t aware that they were dead but eventually we managed to kill several, including their officers. It was then it became obvious they were ghosts as their bodies dissipated into vapour rather than remaining where they fell.  
We headed back to Honor Hold as evening fell, and met up with Gillaen and the others. They’d been fighting demons at the Legion Front. Kayllen joined us for our evening meal and, at Gillaen’s invitation, became a welcome addition to our group for the rest of the week.  
Seer Kryv had little to say when we collected our instructions each morning; I think he was glad we had taken Kayllen off his hands and he no longer had to deal with the priest. It wasn’t a problem for us; we’d taken a liking to the man, and were happy to include him in our group. When he wasn’t in a melancholic mood, Kayllen was an interesting person to talk to, telling us about some of the many worlds he’d lived on during his long life. Of course what he never said, but what we all understood was that the draenei had been forced to leave those worlds when the Burning Legion caught up with them; and they almost certainly no longer existed as he remembered them.  
We had to leave Draenor at the end of a week as we needed to be back on Azeroth ready for our journey to Pandaria. As we made our final report to Commander Trollbane Seer Kryv took me to one side and thanked me for helping Kayllen. I assured him that it had been no problem.  
“He just needed someone to talk to,” I said. “He’s lonely.”  
We were at the flight master’s post arranging for our flight back to the Dark Portal when Kayllen joined us. Leading his mount he came out of the stable and walked up to us. I glanced at the beast, laden with several bags and a variety of weapons.  
“Going somewhere?” I asked curiously.  
“Yes. I am returning to Darnassus, to the responsibilities I left there. Maybe one day I will return to Outland, but I need more time to let the memories fade, so I am not reminded so much of the home that I lost.”  
“That’s sounds like a good decision,” I commented. “My home is in Darnassus, so maybe after I return from Pandaria I will see you there.”  
Kayllen joined us on the flight back, his winged guardian easily keeping pace with our gryphons. Together we walked through the portal back to the Blasted Lands where it seemed very little had changed. It was there we parted company, Kayllen going to find a mage who would make him a portal back to Darnassus and the rest of us to reclaim our horses from the stables.  
The stable master looked heartily relieved to see us. It seemed as if he couldn’t get our horses out of his stable quick enough. He led out Jothan’s, Lissan’s and my horses readily enough, but told Gillaen he could fetch his own horse.  
“And don’t ever ask me to care for that demon horse again. I won’t have it in my stables.”  
Gillaen made no reply; he simply walked past the man to the stall where his horse had been housed. It stood there quietly enough watching him approach and bent its head to his caress.  
“Doesn’t seem very demonic to me,” I commented. The stable master merely snorted and walked away. Gillaen opened the door and the horse whinnied, causing the man to quicken his pace. Gillaen chuckled softly as he stroked the creature’s neck.  
“Hush now, my Joy,” he soothed, so quietly I scarcely heard him.  
“Don’t be so unkind. He doesn’t understand you, that’s all.”  
I watched him begin to saddle and bridle his horse, his every movement gentle and slow.  
“Joy?” I queried.  
Gillaen glanced up at me for a moment before he resumed his task.  
“She was a joy to me when all there was in my life was death and pain and loneliness, and she never held it against me for stealing her and taking her life. She deserves all I can give her.”  
I said nothing more, musing over what my brother had said. I'd never thought about how he came by his horse, assuming I suppose that it was just a demonic summoning. I hadn’t realised that he’d had to create her from a living creature. And knowing my brother he regarded it as yet another in his list of wrong-doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering about Gillaen's choice of name for his horse, it was inspired by a line from the hymn "When a knight won his spurs". It just seemed appropriate, the words to me describe how Gillaen wants to live his life.


End file.
